The only kind of beauty that matters
I hate to my fucking core that “beauty” in a woman has nothing to do with a look of intelligence, happiness or anything complex, human and deeper than bone structure and the colours and size of your respective bits, not to mention having no sign of encroaching death by way of a wrinkle or flesh giving in to gravity.
Commenter Lizor, on this epic thread at Nine Deuce’s blog
Yet more proof that beauty is an oppressive concept when applied to human beings. One of these days I’m going to have to write a blog post of my own on this subject.
And that poor petunia looked much nicer at the garden shop. It had to survive being stuck in a bag and walked 5 km home. I’m surprised the bloom even survived. I’ve bought some flowers for my window boxes and today I’m going to plant them.
I will teach my child to hate and fear people like you
Photographer Haley Morris-Cafiero is a woman whose body exceeds the acceptable social limits for a female body in a viciously woman-hating society like the one we live in. Her new photography project documents the disgusted looks and/or nasty laughter she gets from the assholes around her.
Photo by Rebecca Cairns. Source
Dear Liberal Feminism,
I did everything you told me to.
I was independent.
I was sassy, feisty and spunky. Not like the worn-out women of yore who were oppressed because they just didn’t have enough spirit, because they just didn’t stand up for themselves enough.
Balcony December 9th 2012
Snowed in. Send help! All I have left to eat is cookies.
Also the house is freezing. A little less freezing than last year because we have a new boiler, but still freezing!
My balcony under the snow.
View from my balcony, December 8 2012
View from my balcony Nov 27th
Saw a rosy gleam through the window and opened the balcony door to reveal this spectacular dawn light. My camera wasn’t good enough to capture it really.
Yes, I still have that !@$^!$!! Drunken Sailor song stuck in my head and can’t write anything, so here are some lovely photos from a place my ancestors called home: the Isle of Barra, one of the Western Isles of gloriously beautiful Scotland.
Wish I were here!