When I see people use words like “brilliant,” “bloody hell,” and/or “bollocks” on the internet, I assume they are anglophile Americans, not actually English/Scottish/Welsh/Irish.

human: Who’s your favorite Disney Princess?

Me: Captain Hook.

human: …Disney Princess?

Me:…I stand by my previous answer…

 So I wanted to talk about this picture for a minute.  I, belatedly, accepted Ze Franks challenge to re-walk a path I walked often as a child on Google Maps (living 1,188 miles away from my childhood home, Google Maps was the only way this was going to happen for me).  His hypothesis was that there would be a moment you had to pause and just relive a memory.  I chose to re-walk my path from school to my grandparents’ house.  I walked it every Friday for about six years.  While there were many places on the walk that I paused, many places where I remembered the leaves gathered particularly thick every year, or that one street sign we used to try to climb and sit on every single Friday, even though we knew the edge was too sharp and no one had the pain tolerance to hold onto it long enough to pull them self up (Zach always got the closest, my baby brother, now a US marine, always did the worst).  With all the memories on the hill we trudged up, and the countless stops elementary students make along the way, none of the pauses stuck out as what Ze Frank was talking about.  The picture I shared here is on the last bend before my grandparents’ house.  I was getting worried that I wouldn’t have a particularly strong poignant picture.  Maybe I was too young when I left, not old enough for those big memories that make you just stop and stare for a moment.  Then I came to this picture.
You see that blue van?  The one that is really more rust than van, you might not be able to actually see the color any more.  That van has been in that exact spot my entire life.  When I got to this picture on Google Maps, I started smiling like an idiot.  This is the spot past the street sign we’d all bloodied our hands trying to climb and you could still hear the Noisy-Dog house from here, but you didn’t worry about the own coming out and yelling at you to move along anymore, you were far enough down the street.  This is also the last thing you see before Maw maw Pop pop’s house.  Sure, you still have to walk past the Strangely-Elegant house, but you see their house for the first time, while you walk past this van.  It’s also all down hill from here.  Technically, the Noisy-Dog house is at the top of the hill, but the man in that house was very scary and you didn’t take time to enjoy the downhill slope until you got a safe distance from him.
When I paused here, I thought it might be my mind fabricating a poignant moment because I knew the walk was almost over.  After all, the van I found most fascinating isn’t here anymore.  There was this van with these weird black bubble windows.  It was so strange, the blue van was just it’s boring, normal step brother.  The more I stared at the picture, however, the more I knew the feeling was genuine.  I was flooded with memories old tears from stressful days at school, or the shouts of laughter as a walk with friends drew to an end.  I could actually feel the burning in my legs and the scrapping sensation in my throat from breathing cold fall/winter air too quickly while walking up a hill too fast.  Things that I would complain about today, but as a kid I started running at this point.  After all, cookies and grandparents awaited me, and they were so close I could see them.  We were past all the main attractions of our walk (except the Strangely-Elegant house, but really, you could take in the view as you ran past, it wasn’t  the type of attraction that required stopping) and the other kids had either peeled off already, or could see their houses at this point.  For me, this was the end of the walk.  When I stepped past the vans, I was at Maw maw Pop pop’s house.  Sure, a surveyor would probably disagree with me, but it was within sight of her front porch and that determined property lines for me at that age.
It makes sense that this is such a loaded image for me.  I didn’t just pass it on foot in those half forgotten memories.  It was also on the most direct rout to drive from my childhood home to my grandparents’ house.  Depending on where in town we were before hand, we’d drive to their house from a variety of different directions, but this was ‘normal way’ (as opposed to ‘the park way’, or the ‘Indian hill way’.  I was really into naming things as a child).  This was usually the last thing I saw before I got to Maw maw Pop pop’s house or the first thing I saw as we left.  I have countless memories of laying my head, half asleep, against the cold car window, watching this van pass in the dead of night as my parents took us home to our beds.  This van was the gateway to one of the most treasured places of my childhood.  
Both of my parents had living parents who lived in our town when I was a kid, and my siblings and I were pawned off on them with equal frequency.  I have wonderful memories at both of their homes and my childhood home to boot, but this van was the mark at the end of the walk from school.  The first act of independence I was granted as a child.  I can still remember begging my mom to let me walk to Maw maw Pop pop’s house from school.  My friends. who lived right across the street, walked to school and there were crossing guards at every street corner in between.  That walk was magical.  For the solid thirty minutes we spent on that 0.9 mile walk (we wasted a LOT of time, the Noisy-Dog man probably had good reason to shoo us off his property), we were the masters of our own fates, and it felt wonderful.  This van was a part of wonderland.  No one paid any attention to it.  I don’t think the adults noticed it.  I don’t even think the other kids noticed it unless a cat ran from us and hid under it (another thing that happened with alarming frequency).
This blue van was mine, and it makes me feel like I have a home, a feeling I don’t get much anymore.  In fact, before I took this challenge, I kinda forgot what remembering home felt like.  Thanks for the very old challenge Ze Frank.

So I wanted to talk about this picture for a minute.  I, belatedly, accepted Ze Franks challenge to re-walk a path I walked often as a child on Google Maps (living 1,188 miles away from my childhood home, Google Maps was the only way this was going to happen for me).  His hypothesis was that there would be a moment you had to pause and just relive a memory.  I chose to re-walk my path from school to my grandparents’ house.  I walked it every Friday for about six years.  While there were many places on the walk that I paused, many places where I remembered the leaves gathered particularly thick every year, or that one street sign we used to try to climb and sit on every single Friday, even though we knew the edge was too sharp and no one had the pain tolerance to hold onto it long enough to pull them self up (Zach always got the closest, my baby brother, now a US marine, always did the worst).  With all the memories on the hill we trudged up, and the countless stops elementary students make along the way, none of the pauses stuck out as what Ze Frank was talking about.  The picture I shared here is on the last bend before my grandparents’ house.  I was getting worried that I wouldn’t have a particularly strong poignant picture.  Maybe I was too young when I left, not old enough for those big memories that make you just stop and stare for a moment.  Then I came to this picture.

You see that blue van?  The one that is really more rust than van, you might not be able to actually see the color any more.  That van has been in that exact spot my entire life.  When I got to this picture on Google Maps, I started smiling like an idiot.  This is the spot past the street sign we’d all bloodied our hands trying to climb and you could still hear the Noisy-Dog house from here, but you didn’t worry about the own coming out and yelling at you to move along anymore, you were far enough down the street.  This is also the last thing you see before Maw maw Pop pop’s house.  Sure, you still have to walk past the Strangely-Elegant house, but you see their house for the first time, while you walk past this van.  It’s also all down hill from here.  Technically, the Noisy-Dog house is at the top of the hill, but the man in that house was very scary and you didn’t take time to enjoy the downhill slope until you got a safe distance from him.

When I paused here, I thought it might be my mind fabricating a poignant moment because I knew the walk was almost over.  After all, the van I found most fascinating isn’t here anymore.  There was this van with these weird black bubble windows.  It was so strange, the blue van was just it’s boring, normal step brother.  The more I stared at the picture, however, the more I knew the feeling was genuine.  I was flooded with memories old tears from stressful days at school, or the shouts of laughter as a walk with friends drew to an end.  I could actually feel the burning in my legs and the scrapping sensation in my throat from breathing cold fall/winter air too quickly while walking up a hill too fast.  Things that I would complain about today, but as a kid I started running at this point.  After all, cookies and grandparents awaited me, and they were so close I could see them.  We were past all the main attractions of our walk (except the Strangely-Elegant house, but really, you could take in the view as you ran past, it wasn’t  the type of attraction that required stopping) and the other kids had either peeled off already, or could see their houses at this point.  For me, this was the end of the walk.  When I stepped past the vans, I was at Maw maw Pop pop’s house.  Sure, a surveyor would probably disagree with me, but it was within sight of her front porch and that determined property lines for me at that age.

It makes sense that this is such a loaded image for me.  I didn’t just pass it on foot in those half forgotten memories.  It was also on the most direct rout to drive from my childhood home to my grandparents’ house.  Depending on where in town we were before hand, we’d drive to their house from a variety of different directions, but this was ‘normal way’ (as opposed to ‘the park way’, or the ‘Indian hill way’.  I was really into naming things as a child).  This was usually the last thing I saw before I got to Maw maw Pop pop’s house or the first thing I saw as we left.  I have countless memories of laying my head, half asleep, against the cold car window, watching this van pass in the dead of night as my parents took us home to our beds.  This van was the gateway to one of the most treasured places of my childhood.  

Both of my parents had living parents who lived in our town when I was a kid, and my siblings and I were pawned off on them with equal frequency.  I have wonderful memories at both of their homes and my childhood home to boot, but this van was the mark at the end of the walk from school.  The first act of independence I was granted as a child.  I can still remember begging my mom to let me walk to Maw maw Pop pop’s house from school.  My friends. who lived right across the street, walked to school and there were crossing guards at every street corner in between.  That walk was magical.  For the solid thirty minutes we spent on that 0.9 mile walk (we wasted a LOT of time, the Noisy-Dog man probably had good reason to shoo us off his property), we were the masters of our own fates, and it felt wonderful.  This van was a part of wonderland.  No one paid any attention to it.  I don’t think the adults noticed it.  I don’t even think the other kids noticed it unless a cat ran from us and hid under it (another thing that happened with alarming frequency).

This blue van was mine, and it makes me feel like I have a home, a feeling I don’t get much anymore.  In fact, before I took this challenge, I kinda forgot what remembering home felt like.  Thanks for the very old challenge Ze Frank.

toolateforcocktails:

The fandom in a nutshell

This is me and my boyfriend discussing my many beloved villains

(Source: stevemcqueened)

  • me: watching tv show
  • me: looks down at phone for 0.002 seconds
  • me: misses entire plot line of episode, introduction of 2 new characters, 1 main character dies, they are in a different country, at some point someone reproduced and offspring are spoiled and someone got a pet cat
  • Sounds like someone's watching True Blood

Reblog if you want your followers to anonymously ask you one thing they want to know about you.

lizthefangirl:

when you re-read a book and realize you skipped over an important sentence the first time you read it

image

I just had to re-watch this music video for the first time since 2006.  What a majestic creature Zefron is.

 I was adding a new batch of redbubble stickers to my computer when I came to a realization.  Someday, my computer will die, and I’ll be more upset about the loss of my stickers than the expense of replacing the computer.

I was adding a new batch of redbubble stickers to my computer when I came to a realization.  Someday, my computer will die, and I’ll be more upset about the loss of my stickers than the expense of replacing the computer.

 littleraebird:

lisa—-celine:

heyfunniest:

Someone took a candid photo of a fight in Ukranian Parliament that is as well-composed as the best renaissance art.

this is so fucking good


This is beautiful :’)

littleraebird:

lisa—-celine:

heyfunniest:

Someone took a candid photo of a fight in Ukranian Parliament that is as well-composed as the best renaissance art.

this is so fucking good

This is beautiful :’)

Me: Please PLEASE focus up and start studying!  This is important.

Me: You know what else is important.  Tumblr.

Me: $40,000 of student debt!  You are not paying $40,000 for Tumblr.

Me: I might if someone asked.

Me: