Last night I dreamt that I had died. But I could see, or rather feel, what was going on around me. … I felt I had no strength or will, I was only capable of witnessing my own death, my own corpse. Above all, I could feel in my dream something long forgotten, something that had…
I got a 29, but I didn’t do a lot of fussy fiddling around after they looked generally good.
44 and that made me dizzy and headache ffff. </distracted from homework>
I got a 14. Christian (who’s colorblind) got frustrated after 5 minutes and gave up. :P
I got a 0. Perfect colour vision! haha :)
Dude, I think you just won the internet.
Psst, per your notes, it’s totally possible that color synesthesia could work that way, if I understand it at all. Marie’s got color-sound synesthesia. She can hum tunes based on color schemes she sees, if they’re aligned with colors that are traditionally associated with specific tones. It’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen.
Or heard. Or whatever.
I hate all of you.
yes i’m colorblind why do you ask —PM
Yeeeeeah I’m not even going to try this. >.<
Also colorblind :P
12, and I was told as a kid that I was color blind.
“R.I.P. the 2,976 American people that lost their lives on 9/11, and R.I.P. the 48,644 Afghan and 1,690,903 Iraqi people who were murdered at the US’ hands thereafter for a crime they did not commit.”—a friend’s status on facebook. val healy rules! (via rachel-atcheson)
For someone who is so concerned about politically correct word choices, I am really confused on what your George Carlin quote about being fat is supposed to mean. You could easily make a few changes and replace fat with "slut" in that quote, and you would throw a shit-fit. What are you really trying to say with that quote?
I took what he was saying as fat acceptance, not as an insult, or a derogatory sling.
I can see where you’re coming from, and I definitely had to read it a few times while seriously considering how it can be taken. The problem with knowing what was trying to be said, or what I was “trying to say with that quote”, is that I did not say it. George Carlin said it.
The fact that he acknowledges there is no “correct weight”, I feel, shows that he is more of a body positive individual than a man trying to make a cheap shot.
I could of course be wrong, and am ready to admit so, should anyone be able to produce hard evidence that Mr. Carlin was, indeed, that kind of person.
As things stand, quotes are up for interpretation. Mine was a positive one.
“Some will read “queer” as synonymous with “gay and lesbian” or “LGBT.” This reading falls short. While those who would fit within the constructions of “L”, “G”, “B”, or “T” could fall within the discursive limits of queer, queer is not a stable area to inhabit. Queer is not merely another identity that can be tacked onto a list of neat social categories, nor the quantitative sum of our identities. Rather, it is the qualitative position of opposition to presentations of stability—an identity that problematizes the manageable limits of identity. Queer is a territory of tension, defined against the dominant narrative of white-hetero-monogamous-patriarchy, but also by an affinity with all who are marginalized, otherized, and oppressed. Queer is the abnormal, the strange, the dangerous. Queer involves our sexuality and our gender, but so much more. It is our desire and fantasies and more still. Queer is the cohesion of everything in conflict with the heterosexual capitalist world. Queer is a total rejection of the regime of the Normal.”—toward the queerest insurrection (via eastofethan)
“You probably noticed, elsewhere I use the word FAT. I used that word because that’s what fat people are. They’re fat. They’re not large, they’re not stout, chunky, hefty, or plump. And they’re not big-boned. Dinosaurs are big-boned. These people are not necessarily obese, either. OBESE is a medical term. (Author’s Note: A particularly meaningless term, at that.) And they’re not overweight. OVERWEIGHT implies there is some correct weight. There is no correct weight. HEAVY is also a misleading term. An aircraft carrier is heavy, it’s not fat. Only people are fat and that’s what fat people are. They’re fat. I offer no apology for this. It is not intended as criticism or insult. It is simply descriptive language. I don’t like euphemisms. Euphemisms are a form of lying. Fat people are not gravitationally disadvantaged. They’re fat. I prefer seeing things the way they are. Not the way some people wish they were.”—George Carlin, Brain Droppings (via tb0t)
So my tonsils decided to blow up a few days ago, and, while it was bothersome, I didn’t really care. I had no other symptoms for about two days besides a swollen/sore throat, so I said “meh”.
Yesterday things decided to get worse, and I had constant headaches all day (sometimes they powered right through my ibuprofen), and, after taking a flashlight to my mouth, I realized my tonsils were bigger than I thought, with some encouraging (gross) white spots. GREAT.
Before I resigned myself to a 3-day weekend of hell, I decided to go to the doctor.
Pharyngitis. Okay. And my headaches have been fevers. Even better.
I was feverish when I got to the doctor, which wasn’t surprising as the sunlight had been making my head pound since leaving the house. I was also dizzy, which I was ready to blame on my shoddy eyesight, ALAS, I’m just that sick.
After my appointment I had planned on catching a bus at 48th and South, but was early, so I thought I’d walk a few blocks and catch it further along the route. This was obviously a stupid thing to do when I was just told I had a fever, and knew I was sick, but, hey, I’d gotten through the past couple of days okay, right?
So, anyway, I end up missing the bus, because the asshole literally just passed me. Grumble.
And so, in total, I ended up walking two miles with, what I can only imagine was a raging fever at this point, as I was having trouble keeping a straight line. The heat wasn’t helping either, and by the time I reached 48th and O, I was a puddle of a person. Went into the Walgreens to fill my prescription/rest, and while I was wasting time looking at the shitty toys, my body finally said “fuck it”, and I nearly took out a whole shelf of creepy barbie knock-offs. As if the noise hadn’t been obnoxious enough, I’d like to say Bravo! to the genius who came up with the HUMONGOUS MIRROR ABOVE THE AISLES idea, because the entire store was able to watch me, seemingly, bellyflop into children’s toys.
Anyway. I’m grumpy. But I’m back in a house, so I’m moderately less irritated than I was earlier.
Just kidding, I just remembered the HORSE PILLS my doctor decided were appropriate for a person who can barely swallow water without wincing.