Another account of the 1989 Secret Session:

Yea. That’s basically what I said when her publicist Tree called me and asked me to attend a secret event on Saturday where they would have to take away my phone, where I would have to sign contracts, and where I would have to drive to an unknown location up in the hills where there’d be no phone service. Then she proceeded to basically tell me nothing about what was going happen, but that it had something to do with Taylor Swift and that it would be amazing. She told me that I MUST NOT say anything.

Honestly guys, I don’t think I would have done ANY of that for anyone else (well, maybe except my family and the president or something) but I took a chance and said okay.

I also asked if  my sister Jackelyn could come. I knew that the chances were slim (wasn’t sure how private or secret this event was) but I asked anyway. I mean, the worst they could say is no. Jackelyn and I have been fans of Taylor since “Teardrops on my guitar” and she was the one who introduced me to Taylor’s songs.

Friday afternoon when I got the email that said “Yes, she can come,” I immediately flew my sister down from San Francisco to experience this craziness with me.

What ended up happening was beyond incredible. Can I share my story with you? Ok here we go :)

First I came to a house somewhere in the hills of LA. I knocked on the door and out came a gorgeous, friendly lady who also happened to be Taylor’s publicist, Tree – the one I talked to on the phone. She invited me inside. Much to my surprise, when I got in I also saw my friend Meredith! She’s Stilababe09 for those of you who may be familiar with her beauty/fashion videos on YouTube. We were both like…ummm what!?? Another man who writes for major publications like Entertainment Weekly, Rolling Stone etc. was also there with his young daughter. Together all of us sat in major confusion. Next, Tree asked for all of our phones. We handed them to her. Then we all walked out of the house as the sun started to set. We probably took less than 200 steps and arrived at a metal gate. When the black doors opened, there were security and cameras inside filming us walking in. We all got wanded down to make sure we weren’t carrying anything crazy. Once we passed that, they gave is a wrist band and we kept walking deeper and deeper into the property.

It looked like a country house in the hills of LA. I looked at Tree and asked her where we were. She said, “We’re at Taylor Swift’s house,” with a smirk.

Meredith, Jackelyn, and I were DYING.

We walked into her backyard and saw the cutest outdoor furniture ever. Wooden teal chairs and tables, a pink and mint rickshaw, roses, peonies, and sunflowers in vintage vases decorating the patio. It was everything you would think Taylor Swift’s backyard would look like.

As our little group was walking around exploring, we heard the back door open. Wavy blonde hair and crimson lips, out came Taylor Swift looking PERFECTLY like Taylor Swift.

I might have just died for a second. My sister and I started tearing up. (So weird. This has never happened before for people we don’t know.) Taylor walked up to me and said, “Hi! I’m Taylor,” and we hugged. I still couldn’t process what was happening and probably said “OMG” waaaaay too many times.

Taylor said that she found my videos and Meredith’s videos on YouTube and started watching them a while ago! We both couldn’t even handle it. Like what, really?! So that’s why she wanted to invite us to her house for a secret listening session to hear for the first time all the songs from “1989” – her album that will drop in October.

Then she said she needed to get ready so she left briefly. At this time about 30-40 other girls came through the gates looking super confused too. Then we were all lead into the house where we sat in Taylor’s actual living room. I spotted her MTV music award, her Grammy, her American Music Award etc. It was actually really cool to see that her awards placed right next to normal people things like candles, books, and picture frames. Her house was very quaint and pretty. It wasn’t massive and it embodied everything Anthropologie.

Next, I heard some of the girls start to shriek. Then the whole living room went bozonkers…to the moon!! Taylor walked in.

It was so precious to see these girls crying, not being able to breathe, and basically LOSING IT because they never ever thought this moment could ever happen. And it was HAPPENING right here, right now, in Taylor’s house. All of these girls and a few boys were chosen from twitter for their support of Taylor. They were some of her HUGEST fans.

After everyone pulled it together (it took a good 5-10 min), Taylor said she wanted to play her whole album for us and explain one by one what each song was about and what/who it was inspired by. To me, this was awesome because I’ve always wondered…who really were the boys she was pining over? What did she really mean by this lyric? I respect Taylor a lot because she actually writes her own music unlike some other pop stars and she started her career at 14. It is incredible to listen to her thought processes and her creative mind-flow.

So without further adieu, my other POPster-Swifties out there, I am going to give you just a taste of each song on the album. Taylor asked us specifically to not spill any song titles or any lyrics, but I can share with you everything else from which I can remember.

1989 is an all pop album. No country songs. I was a little afraid because I love the country Taylor.

The first song is about the place where she moved, New York. It’s a fantastic upbeat, feel-good song that will get people moving and pumped up!

The second song is MY FAVORITE. It started out as a joke song about what the media portrayed her as. A clingy, needy girl who serial dates and breaks up with guys to come up with good songs. It was perfect and hilarious. I hope it’s her second single.

There were quite a few songs about a certain ex boyfriend that she dated from London (oops who!?). That relationship was especially rocky and unsure for her so I can totally understand why she was affected enough to write, sing, and express her feelings on this album.

Another song that jumped out to me in particular is called Bad Blood. Im sharing this title because she already talked about it in Rolling Stone. That evening, she told us that at one point she had really looked up to this older pop star and tried to be her friend. The other girl would be nice to her when the cameras were on but once they turned off, she’d insult her immediately. Taylor said that she didn’t know whether to laugh or fight back because the other girl just made her feel so small, afraid, and unsure of herself. Eventually the girl did something that sabotaged their relationship for good, and it wasn’t even over a boy. It was business related. So Taylor cut all ties. This song is a way to stand up to her.

Now, I was SUPER curious as to who she was talking about. So I listened to whispers from the other girls in the room. It sounded like “blah blah Katy Perry blah blah blah.” That night I went online and did a little research and it turns out there indeed there was a feud between Taylor and Katy. I don’t know if this is true or not, I am just regurgitating information from what I read, but it seems that right before Taylor embarked on her RED tour, Katy tried to hire out all the dancers from under her and some of the dancers actually left!

The reason why I am telling you this is not because I want to share gossip with you, but rather because I had a similar experience when I first moved here to LA. I vividly remember other fitness people wanting to bring me down. Honestly, I don’t even understand why someone would do this to anyone else. I was nice to everyone! Not because I’m trying to be, I just am. Sometimes I’m too nice. They tried to steer me in the wrong direction ON PURPOSE, they accused me of something I didn’t do (more than once), and then made me feel like the tiniest, dumbest person ever when I knew I did nothing wrong.

These are bad feelings. This is “bad blood.” I distanced myself away from them and unfollowed them on all accounts, making sure that I could keep me real life and my online life as positive and happy as possible. You know how I tell you to delete negative people from your life? I tell you that because that is exactly what I did to heal from that horrible experience.

All in all, I loved the new pop sound. The ones above are most memorable to me. I can’t wait until 1989 comes out. I want to dance and work out to it all!

During the secret listening session, Taylor brought out baked scones and chocolate chip cookies for us all. Afterwards we all took polaroids with her from a real polaroid cam from literally 1989. Her are some pics!



After Steve went under and his personal effects were collected, as were Bucky’s, several letters between them were suppressed because the government didn’t want people “getting the wrong idea about them”. Steve’s torn between being pissed, because it was the right idea, or relieved that his personal, private life isn’t available for public consumption. He did ask for them back, though

I don’t like the word
Whenever I hear it, my whole body
halts for a second.
Whether it’s
Cut. Copy. Paste.
Whether it’s
‘cut here’ on a package, it just seems
too personal.
Too sharp.
It’s so boisterous, so embarrassing, so piercing.
Like someone has just unwittingly revealed something private and no one notices but you.
The word itself makes me want to
My mouth tastes like rust and my breathing becomes shallow.
It’s like an instinctive fear, except
what is there to be afraid of?
The word?
Or myself.

anonymous said:

Do you have an ideal scenario for meeting Harry?

Tbh i would love to just randomly meet him in a pub or something. It would be nice to have a mutual friend so i could get to know him without saying “i am such a huge fan”. I don’t think i would want him to know any of that. Just having a chat with him about life, having a few drinks and a laugh. I would want him to be comfortable and honest around me. I always wanted to know how he is around his friends/family in private. Not having to worry about anything. As real as it can get :)


I probably do not
the type of space you think I should.

My thick thighs
loud voice
are only allowed to show themselves
in the private space of your bedroom
when your mother isn’t home.

Crop tops
my stomach
go hand in hand
when it is your hands
doing the touching,
but only
closed doors.

I probably do not
the type of space you think I should.

Fat girls are told
we must have curves in the right places
and if we don’t,
we might as well cover up now
because modesty
is the closet thing to beautiful
a fat girl can get.

modesty is no match for the fourteen year old girl
who was told that she was a vision,
but only in the dark.

For the eighteen year old
Who was told she didn’t have the body
college men would want.

Or for the twenty year old woman
Who is repeatedly told that since she shed some weight
She can maybe
Find a partner.

Modesty is no match for me.

I probably do not
the type of space you think I should.

I do not occupy
the space between your sheets
and your mattress.
You cannot enjoy my thick thighs
and loud voice
and soft stomach
if all you want to do afterwards
is hide me.

I occupy
all of the places I sit
and lie in.

I probably do not
the type of space you think I should.

you are no match for me,
and I refuse to shrink myself.

—  Sarah H., anti-modesty anthem

The lady from the commission arrived at 7:30am, as promised, in a reassuringly normal white Prius. Merrilyn’s mother gave her hair one last smoothing-over. “You’re sure you have everything? You don’t want me to go with you?” Merrilyn shook her head and rubbed away a tear. They’d been over this. If there were other students wherever they were going — and Miss Dupris said there would be — then she wanted to get the goodbye over with in private.

Miss Dupris was as nice as she had been when they’d gone shopping in that strange center in DC, part and not-part of the city. She answered all of Merrilyn’s questions patiently, but otherwise let her dry her tears and keep her thoughts to herself in peace.

After an hour or so, Miss Dupris pulled the car up near a white picket fence. Merrilyn wasn’t sure where they were anymore, but when she stepped out, she caught the unmistakeable scent of the sound in the air, slightly salty and slightly rotting. Miss Dupris ushered Merrilyn towards a little garden at the bottom of the hill, with brick walkways leading to a tiny shed.

There were only two other students there when Merrilyn arrived, both girls, standing with their families. One was quite tall for her age, chattering merrily to her father and younger siblings and twisting one of her coppery pigtails between her fingers. The other stood still and quiet, looking at her feet, between an alabaster-skinned man in an expensive suit and a lithe woman with a cloud of dark hair, who seemed to be taking it in turns to dispense last-minute advice.

The copper-haired girl’s face lit up when she saw Merrilyn. “You must be the other we’re waiting for! It’s only three of us at this entrance. Rural area and all.” She dove forward and grabbed Merrilyn’s hand, tugging her towards the little white shed. “Can we open it now?” she asked her father. “Please, please, please?”

"Let the poor girl get her bags, Viv," the man said, moving over to help Miss Dupris haul them out of the car.

"Oh. Right. Sorry." Her grin looked anything but chastened. "I’m Vivian Weathers. We live in Nags Head." Merrilyn managed to get her own name out before Vivian launched into a stream of explications about her family and her parents’ jobs, which ended with, "And look, my dad’s got your stuff on the floating cart, does that mean we can open the door now?"

Miss Dupris looked at her watch, then nodded. With a gleeful whoop, Vivian dove for the door, popped the catch, and flung it open. Merrilyn and the other girl had to trot to keep up with her.

Instead of the tiny shed the exterior might have suggested, the door led to a long, curving hallway, painted a cheerful green. “Say goodbye!” Vivian crowed, waving frantically out at the garden. Merrilyn just smiled weakly at Miss Dupris, and the other girl barely had a chance to whisper farewell before Vivian slammed the door shut.

Pulling their carts along, the three girls started down the strange corridor. “I’ve got two brothers at RPI already,” Vivian said, “but they never would tell me how this works. They just get to walk through a mirror at home now, but first years go the long way. It’s traditional, I guess. It’ll let us out somewhere in the school, I think.”

"We’re not walking all the way to Virginia, are we?" Merrilyn asked, horrified.

Vivian laughed. “No, no, of course not! These passages are, like, a shortcut. Something about space getting all bended up and spitting us out at the school. I’m not sure why.”

"Um," said the dark-haired girl. "It’s because Peyton Randolph liked tinkering with architecture. His home in Williamsburg’s famous for it."

"Oh," Vivian said. "What book’s that in?"

"None of them. Um, I mean, none on our list for the first year. I’m sure it’s in lots of books, really. I just know because… well… it’s family history. Sort of. In a way."

"Family history?" Merrilyn asked.

The girl nodded, still looking far more at the cobbled floor than at Merrilyn or Vivian. “My name’s Emilia Rowe-Poythress.”

"Poythress?" Merrilyn echoed. "As in—"

"As in Poythress?” Vivian exploded. “Poythress-Poythress?”

"Um. Yes." Emilia’s cheeks reddened, and she pretended to fuss with her bags to avoid looking at Vivian or Merrilyn. "It’s not a big deal, really…"

Vivian looked on the verge of peppering Emilia with questions, but Merrilyn headed her off. “What’s that?” she said, pointing ahead. There was something on the walls as they rounded another bend.

"Ooooh! C’mon!" Vivian said, skpping ahead.

"Steady and slow, young lady," said a cool, pleasant voice with an accent that reminded Merrilyn of Gone with the Wind. Merrilyn caught up with Vivian to see a portrait of a woman in an old-fashioned white dress, with fluffy sleeves and a blue sash tied around her waist. To Merrilyn’s astonishment, the painting could move and speak, the oils flowing smoothly over the canvas. “Remember, the young witches and wizards of the Randolph-Poythress Institute should comport themselves with grace and charm at all times.”

Vivian giggled, but bobbed a little curtsey and said, “Yes’m.” 

For the next few minutes, as the three girls walked in what seemed a never-ending spiral, they passed many more portraits. Most offered words of encouragement and congratulations, though some gave advice and others criticized their hair and clothes. One addressed Emilia as a great-great-granddaughter, setting off another flood of crimson blushing and apologetic stammers.

Finally, they came to a large white door. The letters RPI were etched on it in loopy calligraphy, and there was a little image of a pineapple carved below them. Vivian’s grin looked fit to split her face as she reached for the brass knob, but her hand hovered just above it. “Well, c’mon, then. Let’s do it together!” She waited while Merrilyn’s and Emilia’s hands joined hers, and with a great push, they opened the door—

And found themselves in an enormous ballroom with a mosaic tiled floor, brightly painted walls, and sunlight streaming in from long, high windows. It reminded Merrilyn of pictures she’d seen of Versailles. To have come from a suburban cul de sac to a humble soundside garden to this palatial estate in so short a time was dizzying to Merrilyn, and she grabbed on to her bags to steady herself.

All around them, other panels were opening in the walls, and a few dozen other students were filling the ballroom, tugging their floating luggage behind them. Some were chatting like old friends, while others, like Merrilyn, gawked at their surroundings. Vivian saw someone she recognized, squealed, and dashed off, leaving Merrilyn and Emilia to shuffle awkwardly beside each other until a clapping sound from the front of the room caught their attention. A gray-haired woman in a pine green dress stood on a little dais, smiling at them. “Welcome to the Randolph-Poythress Institute, first years!” she said. “If you would all follow me, your fellow students are eager to greet you.”

Merrilyn looked at Emilia, who was trembling slightly. She held out a hand. “Come on,” she said. “Maybe we can sit together?” Merrilyn didn’t know what was in store for them, but if this girl, a scion of the school’s founder, could be nervous, then at least she wasn’t alone.

Proposition: Ask a Magician Monday

In the pagan/magic/New Age corner on Tumblr, there are two days a week in which bloggers are able to boost their self-esteem about themselves and their bodies: #sexy pagan friday and #wicked witch wednesday. The creator of SPF, satdeshret, also started the #cuties of tumblr tag which serves the same purpose but is not limited to any one day nor any one type of religious nor magical practitioner.

This is a great thing! I love it, I’ve participated in it a few times, so on and so forth. I want to expand the concept a little, though, to what goes on with most if not all of the faces that we see in the tags.

Now and then, I see posts in the tags inviting people to ask them questions about their practices, but the posts rarely have so much as one note. Even rarer is an actual ask sent to the OPs, lest they all be answering them privately. Compare this to how many popular blogs are so backlogged with asks that they even get anon hate for not answering questions as soon as the senders would like. The playing field needs to be leveled, or at least start to be evened out.

With that said, I’d like to propose that we start up a trend—much like SPF, WWW, and COT—where we send questions to magical practitioners, whether we follow them or not, and ask about their practices every Monday. This can be a way to start discussions about different magical practices, share new information, spread innovative concepts and tips, and just get to know people better. Like the selfie tags, AAMM asks could be tagged with #ask a magician monday so that there’s one place to find all the info that’s being shared.

Of course, one should be respectful to those who don’t want to talk about their magic. No one’s obligated to participate, and no one should give non-participants are hard time about it.

Does this sound like a good idea?

creepypasta-raven said:

heard you were talkin shit about me, let me give you a bit of advice, i advice you to keep your mouth shut, you may be only 3,000 subs behind me but don't think for a second i won't hear about you talking shit about me. If you want to continue this message me privately otherwise. shut the fuck up, grow the fuck up, and man the fuck up. I'm not one of your little friends. I'm bigger than you and I will continue to be bigger then you because i don't talk shit about people behind their backs.

As I thought you were in the chat. Now talking shit would be saying hurtful things. As well as I would talk to you about this IF you had me on skype, yet have in mind„ that I can have my own thoughts, it’s just as simple as this. I don’t think you’re that good, sure, I’m not the best either, and I know others don’t think I’m that good either. Notice how I’m taking this in a rather calm matter, you have been do angry lately. You used to be nice, what happened? We used to talk, we used to be friends. The nothing, you forgot about me. I just wanted to be friends and yet you shut me down from that when all I called you was “friend” but yes, I did talk “shit” but I didn’t mean it to be rude, there are a few narrators I don’t think are that good. But we all have our thoughts. If you get annoyed by my thought then I’m sorry.

But you may be bigger for now.

Mark my words, I’m gonna be bigger than you one day, just you wait. I’m gonna get to the top and no one can stop me, I love what I do, I love everyone in this community. This is what I hope to do for a living, you can be mad at me all you want, I wouldn’t blame you.

But, don’t you ever, say I’m not gonna get as big as you. You hear me? I’m gonna rise to the top and when I get there you’re gonna feel so fucking wrong.

even-stevens said:

You're actually wrong about what socialism is. There is such a thing as free market socialism ya know. Socialism only advocates for democratic ownership of the workplace and abolishing private property. Not state ownership. Thats state capitalism

Free market socialism… State capitalism.
Are you high?

Look Who Came to Dinner (excerpt)

Feeling his muscled arms against her body reminded her he was still the ripped, vital man she’d fallen for in graduate school. As a connoisseur of Southern cooking, he had to starve himself all day to allow for his woman’s steaks and roasts with fixings smothered in butter. His hard work paid off in stamina and solid abs. 

 Ferguson, Human Rights & Capitalism’s War on Democracy

It is not an accident, of course, that this escalation of police repression, as well as the militarization of policing connected to it, parallels both the rise of neoliberalism since the late 1970s and the brutal austerity policies that have been used to respond to this economic model’s crisis more recently.

Although it is often equated to the pursuit of small government, neoliberalism…is above all a political project aimed at redistributing wealth from the bottom to the top and at increasing the power of capital over labor. As this ongoing project understandably leads to popular protest, certain branches of the state grow rather than being reduced.

To reduce social benefits, labor and democratic rights and to sell valuable public assets for a pittance to private investors, a government needs to beef up its police force, while also building new prisons to manage the “surplus population” that neoliberal policies invariably produce.

In other words, the use of rubber bullets, arbitrary arrests, intimidation of journalists and violation of the right to assemble are integral to the functioning of a capitalist system in crisis. And this, of course, is just one of the ways that capitalism is fundamentally at odds with democracy.

learn today.


thebendernation: Another KISS-FM private performance… This time with @nickjonas #benderselfie

headcanon: takanuva demands everyone call him that out of respect for his stature, but when in private, makes no qualms with jaller continuing to refer to him as takua, and becomes slightly uncomfortable when he calls him takanuva

gonebaroque said:

TBTTCH: Boyfriend surprises me by coming to visit. We celebrate by going to an improv show. OH NO two of the cast members are sick?? Time for us to step in. We take over and kill it with our comedy skills and it turns out Lorne Michaels is in the audience. He immediately hires us as new SNL cast, we drop out of school + get a fucking classy apartment in the East Village + eventually become the next Tina Fey and Jimmy Fallon + get a bunch of cute dogs. please respond publicly or privately idc <3

WOW it is SO LUCKY that you and your boyfriend were at that improv show!!!! and it’s even MORE lucky that lorne micheals JUST SO HAPPENED to be there, too, in the back!! he was totally blown away by both your performances, he was just sitting there with his jaw hanging open being like, “godDAMN who are these UNDISCOVERED GEMS???? I MUST HAVE THEM,” so after the show he comes up to the two of you and says, “please come work at SNL, you’re going to really bring the cast together with a coherency that’s been lacking since like the late ’90s, despite some truly bright moments,” and you’re like, “well, oKAY THEN LORNE MICHEALS.”

you move to NYC and amy poehler calls you up while you’re looking for an apartment to ask if you just, want hers??? rent-free?? she’s off to do some stuff in LA for a while, but her apartment is still there and she thinks you’ll really like it?? WELL, OKAY, AMY, IF YOU’RE SURE, you say. she’s sure!! you move in and get free utilities and AWESOME, RICH-PEOPLE-SPEED WIFI.

lorne oBVIOUSLY makes you featured cast members immediately, and you guys are the new will ferrell, the new gilda radner, the new TINA FEY AND JIMMY FALLON. you do SNL for a few years because you get too big for those britches and start your own ensemble sitcom show called GONE BAROQUE, about 2 incredibly talented restoration artists who are ~down on their luck.~ it wins all the emmys it could possible win and everybody loves you forever, even the internet.


that’s the best thing that could happen!!!!!!!!