I’m in a YA Library-services focused class now (basically it’s a lot less “Teens like vampires!” and a lot more “Jesus fucking christ how did we get to the point where it is so socially ingrained in us to treat teenagers like shit”) and we’re on this module on teen space design in libraries and it’s like “Well, by including teenagers in the design process, we found that when it comes to spatial design, teenagers like lots of natural light, green and sustainable building praxis, clean, casual, and comfortable atmospheres, interesting and appealing colors, and also absolutely bullshit furniture that even they have no idea how to sit on.”
So it’s like…
“Tell me… what do The Youths™ want?”
“We still don’t know, but they seem to respond well to victorian fainting couches remodeled to look like they came out of that one time in the early 2000′s where our idea of futuristic was making everything look like it was made out of jell-o.”
Like in this one library, they introduced this piece of furniture that was referred to as “the disk” or “The round thing” and it was just this kind of… solid, padded squat cylinder, not a table because it was padded, too big and connected to the floor to be an ottoman, and not a couch because it was… a cylinder. And like, at first the teens didn’t use it because they thought it was reserved as like, a cushy stage for like, storytimes or something, but as soon as they realized they could sit or lay down on it and it was for them, you would have friend groups of teens literally piling on each other on it. Like that’s honestly the cutest shit.
andrew came downstairs from the office to give me a hug and seemed really worried about me and it turned out that i had reblogged a picture of a jellyfish with the tag “sometimes i wish i could be this” and while i had meant “beautiful, ethereal, and full of light” he had interpreted it as meaning “brainless and totally free of the burden of consciousness”
there’s just so much that’s so wrong with society’s views and attitude towards fat women that you don’t realize affect you until they do like. it’s 6 year old me thinking a classmate in the same dress is prettier than me because her dress is a smaller size. it’s 16 year old me being secretly pleased when a man catcalls me because it means that he finds me attractive. it’s 21 year old me feeling like i need to send a disclaimer to any man on a dating app so they know what i look like before they meet me. it’s my dad saying “you look good, have you lost weight?” when he hasn’t seen me in a while. it’s my ex friends telling me how brave they think it is that i wear a bikini to the beach. it’s practicing how to sit and stand and hold myself in a way that makes me appear smaller and more compact than i am. it’s being afraid to take up space. it’s the assumption that fat = unhealthy and thin = healthy. it’s the survival of the phrase “you’re not fat, you’re beautiful!!” it’s the desire to have thick thighs and protruding hips and large breasts but not wanting the stomach and love handles that come with it. it’s the fat actress always playing the comedic best friend. it’s the few, so very few, love stories with a fat romantic lead being centered around weight loss and body image. it’s the popularity of the biggest loser. it’s the concept of a revenge body. it’s the need for fat women to be femme and fashionable to be slightly accepted. it’s flat tummy teas. it’s thigh gaps. it’s waist trainers. it’s everything the kardashian jenners push and advocate. it’s all around us and you don’t realize it until you realize it and then you can’t stop realizing it.
@indigopersei is the french language just always on the verge of getting someone accused of assault or..?
my friend, if only you knew
It’s a very dangerous language to learn
Here’s an interesting thing about French! Everything needs to have an article in front of it. That’s why it’s “la chat” as opposed to just “chat”. So, for instance, you could say la fille for the girl, or jeune fille for young girl, but you can’t just say fille, because that means you are calling her a sex worker in a derogatory way.
The moral of the story is, if you want to make something rude in French, just take out the article in front of it. Yes, this works for nearly. every. word.
Every year. Every year there’s that kid who forgets that you can’t translate “I am excited” to “Je suis excitée”. And every year Monsieur Jordan has to slam the brakes before that kid can finish his sentence and then tactfully ask him not to announce to the class that he is horny.
“is the french language always on the verge” oh buddy, oh pal, i am so happy to break this news to you:
