i was told i should definatley post this story so here we go!:
So I was selling Girl Scout cookies at a cookie booth this weekend, and this little old lady walks up to the booth to buy cookies! She looks to me like she’s at least 70 she’s really old. She’s super friendly talking to us and telling us about what it was like when she was a Girl Scout. So finally she picks out 5 boxes to buy and she says “you know I don’t really like these cookies but my, uh, my spouse Sharon did.” And she continued to tell us about her wife Sharon who died 2 years ago from cancer. Sharon was a Girl Scout leader and she was 6ft tall and she just loved thin mints. And then Margaret (she said at this point her name was Margaret) pointed down to her shirt (which was HUGE on her) and said it belonged to Sharon and even tho it’s really big on her she still wears it all the time because it feel like Sharon is still there hugging her. And she told us that they had been together for 28 years and really loved each other. Then Margarets old lady friends came over so she had to go and she said good bye and after she left we were talking about it and I was so happy to have met her because it just made me so happy to meet this elderly lesbian Girl Scout and all of the sudden the sort of sad mood is interrupted because the other girl in my troop looks over to me and says “wow Kaitlyn, she was the first gay Girl Scout I’ve ever met besides you!” and all I responded with was “it was an experience"
Request: I’d love one where the reader is Starks little girl but in
her early 20s. She’s a Girl Scout troop leader and brings her girls to the
tower to set up their cookie stand in the lobby. Bucky keeps sneaking down
there and buys cookies from them and winking and flirting at her making the
little girls giggle at them.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: fluff central
Word Count: 892
A/N: this request made me smile so much! hope you enjoy, please leave feedback. my requests and taglist are open. I have one request left after this. let me know what else you want me to write.
“Dad, remember I’m bringing my troops to meet everyone
today. Please keep anything dangerous locked away. I don’t want to have to
explain to parents as to why all their little girl’s eyebrows were burned off.
Make sure the entire team is there. The whole point of today is for the troops
to learn about leadership. Everyone needs to be there. Got it? And we’re
setting up the cookie stand in your lobby. Please buy some boxes.” You left yet
another voicemail for your father.
Today, you were supposed to bringing your girl scout troop
to the tower to sell cookies, but they were all going to earn their leadership
patches by going. Troop 159 did sell the most cookies out of all the troops in
Manhattan, but it was all thanks to you, Y/N Stark. People just automatically
want to buy cookies from a famous man’s daughter. It’s just the way the world
All week you had been leaving the same message for him, but
he would never pick up the phone or call you back. He was probably holed away
in his lab, or avoiding Bucky Barnes. Sure, he might’ve killed your
grandparents, but you didn’t blame him. You knew it wasn’t his fault. You had
been through the same experience with Loki. He used his staff to brainwash you
and he forced you to do terrible things. In a way, you understood Bucky, even
though you had never met him.
Standing outside of Avengers Tower, you were really hoping
your dad had at least listened to the voicemails. With sweating palms, you lead
your troops inside. The lobby was empty except for a few folding tables. Good,
he had heard them.
“Alright girls, let’s set everything up. Then I will see if
everyone is available to come down.”
The girls got to work and you went to Tiffany, the
“Can you call my dad and see if everyone’s ready. Tell him
the girls are set up and ready to meet everyone.” With a roll of her eyes, she
got the phone and called to Tony.
“They will be right down, Ms. Stark.”
You nodded your thanks and went to go check up on the girls,
but they already had a customer. You hadn’t noticed anyone come in. All you saw
was his back, and it was a hot back. You made your way around the table to
stand with your girls. Before you could get a good look at him, you heard your
“Y/N! You’re here! It’s been so long! I see you’ve already
met Barnes.” You froze in your spot. Bucky Barnes was the man standing behind
you. He spoke up before you could say anything,
“well, I haven’t really had the chance to introduce myself.
I’m Bucky, and you must be the prettier Stark. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Before
you could blink, he had made his way in front of you. His front was definitely
much hotter than the back. His eyes were enchanting and that smirk, the fucking
smirk. He knew exactly what he was doing.
You slowly took his hand in yours. One of your girls decided
to speak for you,
“this is Troop Leader Y/N. She’s the best troop leader we’ve
ever had!” she exclaimed. Bucky had widened his smile.
“I bet she is. With a pretty face like that She could sell
anything.” Your mouth dropped open, and with a wink, Bucky walked passed all
the Avengers and into the elevator. You had just enough time to see his biceps
flex as he crossed his arms before the doors closed.
Your girls were giggling uncontrollably. That snapped you
out of your lovesick haze.
“A-alrighty girls, these are the Avengers. Most of you
probably know my father, Tony Stark, and Captain America. Everyone is going to
teach you the importance of being a good leader and today you will earn your
leadership patches. So, go introduce yourselves and get started!” you told them
excitedly. All the girls were beaming. Every one of your scouts loved the
With all of them entertained, you sat yourself down in one
of the plastic chairs. You felt a tap on your shoulder.
“Hey there Sugar, I realized I didn’t buy anything when I came
down. Now, what do you recommend?” you heard your girls giggle again. Everyone was
staring at the interaction between you and Bucky. Steve had a smirk on his
face. He had never seen his best friend so confident. You could almost see the
steam coming out of Tony’s ears, and everyone else was giving off a smirk. It was
almost comical how flushed you got around him.
“W-well, my favorites are the Somoas, just because I love
coconut, but I also like the Thin Mints. They taste better if you freeze them.”
You gave out your short answer.
“Alrighty, Darlin’ I’ll take two of each.”
You handed him the boxes and called over one of your girls
to do the transaction, they were the ones supposed to be selling after all.
“thanks, kiddo. I’ll be back down to see your pretty troop
leader again. By Y/N/N.” and again he disappeared.
Mary Jackson was a human computer at Langley Research Center, as part of the West Area Computers. She then became the first black woman engineer at NASA at its founding in 1958. After 34 years at NASA, she asked for a demotion in order to serve as a Federal Equal Opportunity Specialist with NASA. She was also a Girl Scout leader for more than thirty years. She retired in 1985.
Number 182 in an ongoing series celebrating remarkable women in science, technology, engineering, and mathematics.
My roommate in college is a Girl Scout leader, and her scouts really wanted to explore a dorm room because they think it’s cool, being in college and all. So I let these girls in my room, just kind of smiling and them being really excited and thinking it was rad and such. Now I was sitting in my lofted bed the entire time, so I wasn’t really paying that much attention when they were looking at my stuff underneath me. One was crouching below me, while another one was talking to me, distracting me (we’ll get to her later), and then the other one came back up, and she stopped talking to me. After they leave, I get out of the bed to close our blinds. The cord is right by where I keep all my gems and rocks that I collect, and I noticed my palm-size citrine was missing. I looked on the floor, around it and everything and could not find any shards from a fall or anything. It wouldn’t have been that big a deal had I not just got it a week ago from my aunt who got it for me because of the meanings and spiritual stuff surrounding it, so it means a lot to me.
I didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but I texted my roommate asking if by any chance one of the girls had accidentally picked it up or something, and I didn’t get a response.
Now I was on a time limit because if the meeting ended and all the girls went their separate ways, I would probably lose this rock forever. It shouldn’t have been that big a deal, but at this point I just needed to know if a ten year old stole from me.
I called my roommate after she didn’t respond for about fifteen minutes, and finally she answered and said she read the texts and she was asking them at that exact moment. None were ‘fessing up. But then one said “I have one exactly like that, that size, that color, but I brought it from home.” My roommate immediately knew there was some shady shit going on there, so she asked to see it. This kid opens up this flimsy little folder and had stuffed my rock away into the little pocket. My roommate took picture of it, and me, being oblivious to what the situation was, confirmed that was my rock and I was so glad it was found. Even after that, she kept with the story, kept saying it was hers, got it from home, so on. And THE OTHER GIRL FROM EARLIER was defending her saying “Yea, that’s her rock, she showed me earlier” and I feel so used??? By ten year olds?? Bamboozled?? They plotted against me to take my rock, they had a plan and everything? I had so much shit underneath my bed and on the window sill, tsum tsum’s, hello kitty stuff, candy, things I wouldn’t notice were missing, but they had to pull the ultimate heist. Thinking they can get away with it. I think not.
It gets better.
Then her dad shows up. She immediately twisted her story into that she had gotten from school. Where from school? Her locker. How’d it get into her locker? She said she didn’t know, it just showed up one day. The dad kept interrogating her, but she was not budging. My roommate said that she would bring the rock to have me look at it, and that we would look to make sure that I hadn’t just misplaced mine, and she would bring it back if it was not mine, trying to be like a good leader, like she is, but the little girl responded with “Well it’s mine, but she can have it” trying make me look bad.
Now, it’s been a few hours since then, and we just got an email from one of the parents saying she had confessed and her reason was because she has low self-esteem. The subject line was “‘Her name’ and the Rock” and I don’t think I’ve laughed that hard in a while.
TL;DR: Lesson learned, don’t trust Girl Scouts, don’t bring them into your home. You will be ROBBED and you’ll never want to buy another girl scout cookie in your life.
“The moral dilemma began with a $100,000 check to the Girl Scouts of Western Washington – enough to send 500 girls to summer camp, Scout leaders knew.
But there was a catch. The anonymous donor stipulated in a letter: “Please guarantee that our gift will not be used to support transgender girls. If you can’t, please return the money."
The Scouts returned the money.
But $100,000 was hard to pass up. So on Monday, the council’s online marketing manager launched a crowd-funding campaign on IndieGoGo to try to recoup it with donations.
By Thursday evening, #ForEVERYGirl had raised more than $300,000 — triple the original goal.
A video posted to the IndieGogo page says: "Girl Scouts empowers EVERY girl regardless of her gender identity, socioeconomic status, race, sexual orientation, to make the world a better place. We won’t exclude ANY girl.” It has been viewed tens of thousands of times.
On IndieGoGo, many transgender adults thanked the organization and shared their experiences. The campaign has attracted donations from more than 6,000 supporters, including former Girl Scouts.”
The girls streamed into what once served as a dining room at a Sleep Inn in Queens, ready to begin their meeting with a roll call.
One by one came the names: “Jessica. Luz,” recited Karina, a fifth grader. “Carmen?”
The room was small enough that Karina could easily see who was there and who was not. But this was a meeting of Girl Scout Troop 6000, where girls learn to be leaders, and protocol is to be followed.
Troop 6000 is the first in New York City designated solely for homeless girls. All of the members live at the Sleep Inn, where the city has taken over all 10 floors to accommodate about 100 homeless families.
In a way, the troop, created in February, is a reflection of the state of homelessness in the city. Within the Girl Scouts of Greater New York, troop numbers are determined by the city’s five boroughs, with the 1000s in the Bronx, 2000s in Brooklyn and so on. But the members of Troop 6000 would not necessarily identify Queens as their home, so Girl Scout leaders extended the numerical sequence.
“We’re the O.G.!” one of the girls shouted. The slang, short for original gangster, can take on a nefarious connotation, but in this case simply means being the first of its type, one that commands respect.
Shoutout to all scouts, to the girl scouts and to the boy scouts and to the non-binary scouts, to the leaders and to the small scouts, to the ones that are scouts for years now and to the ones that are scouts just for few months, weeks, days. You’re all great and I love you and I’m so happy for being part of this big, beautiful, amazing organisation and family. I’m so grateful for that and for you 💞💫
“It seems like you’ve got a lot of people telling you who you’re doing this for, and I wonder if it’s not about time you start doing this for yourself. Just you. Screw all the attention- and you know what? Screw all those adorable little girls in the crowd with their Ginny Baker signs. Because you’re not a Girl Scout leader, Rookie. You’re a ball player. You do this for you. You do this for your team, or you don’t do it at all. Because you can’t aim your pitches if you’re aiming to please everyone.”
I'm sorry but saying that pedophilia is an orientation is probably the reason why people think that being queer or transgender is "deviant" and why parents don't want their kids to have a queer or trans teacher, religious leader, boy/girl scout leader, babysitter, etc. It just can't be grouped together like that. There needs to be another way to define it or the LGBT stigma will live on.
I can see where you’re coming from, but I have a hard time understanding why categorizing pedophilia as an sexual orientation is the reason for LGBT stigma. It’s just not a very well known concept, and my guess is that most people who are homophobic or transphobic would reject the idea that pedophilia is a sexual orientation, instead orienting it as a moral deficit or sign of evil.
Ideally, the idea that all people have a sexual gender orientation and a sexual age orientation would differentiate those groups, and increase general understanding of how orientation works. I know that’s a nuanced argument that many people won’t be interested in contemplating. I don’t think rejecting pedophilia as an orientation is a good option, a) because it would be scientifically unsound, and b), it perpetuates the argument that all pedophiles are child abusers and therefore evil, rather than being a very unfortunate biological deviation that many pedophiles don’t act on. I’d be happy to hear other options that wouldn’t have those pitfalls and would assist with decreasing LGBT+ stigma, but I’m not aware of any.
Every year, BoyScout!Tom gets jealous of the Girl Scouts because they sell more boxes of cookies. He and his troop sell way fewer boxes of popcorn in comparison :))
And Mr.Competitive hates it and it’s partly his own fault, because his wife is a Girl Scout Leader and she gleefully whoops him in sales every year, not knowing that he secretly buys from the girls in her group because he’s a pushover and can’t refuse them.
My mom is a high functioning drug addict, she's been abusively neglectful my whole life, but she's an upstanding member of the community, a volunteer, and girl scout troop leader, a youth group teacher, generally well liked, it makes me wonder why they deserve her love more than I do
I haven’t put any input in on most of these but this one I really relate to because my dad and mom are definitely like that. My dad is an author of multiple books, leader of a really famous group I don’t want to name for the sake of anonymity, and college professor. Plus his work involves religion and stuff. So we’re the perfect little white suburban family in the front of the church all the time. And my dad always has me talk to and meet all his work friends, act like the perfect child for interviewers and everything, I fucking hate it. And if I ever got him in trouble for what he did to me, I would be degrading one of the few male intersectional feminist writers out there, people that I wish were more common. It’s the worst thing that he has an entire book written about feminism and midwifery, but at home I know how fucking racist and sexist and homophobic he really is. And then my mom just has this way of when she’s in public trying to hold up her reputation, and she’ll seem like that stressed out sweet old lady just trying to get by while raising three kids. If my dad ever got in trouble, people would see her as the biggest victim. That’s why I’d so much rather get emancipated than call cps, because now I’ll just be seen as that rebellious teen. And once my dad dies and society progresses to the point that my dad’s name is just like Richard Gere to millennials, I’ll be able to say what he did to me and be valid in society again. Then I can become a politician and live more than 10x his legacy as a feminist, only for me it won’t be artificial.
1. Civil War Air Patrol Captain
3. Red Lobster Server
4. Part-Time Model
5. Electronics Expert
6. Soccer Team Captain
7. Personal Trainer
8. Girl Scouts Troop Leader
9. Animal Rescue Leader
10. Turtle Trainer
11. Dog Trainer
12. Card Carrier For The Berk’s County Juggler Society
or, a supercat soulmate au in which Carter tries and sort-of-not-really-but-does fail to meddle.
Carter had seen his mother’s soulmark. He wasn’t supposed to have seen it, obviously – soulmarks were private, up
until the point they were actually said. The fact that he had seen it, of
course, was a secret that everyone knew. A lot of children had seen their
parents’ soulmarks, and it was kind of a secret, unsaid tradition that your
children knew your soulmark.
But Cat Grant
was notorious for not showing her soulmark, even in private – she’d talked
about it once, on her show, and it invited many views. These days, celebrities’
soulmarks were well-known, the paparazzi getting paid a lot of money for good
mark-shots. Carter’s mark had been photographed before, to his misfortune, but
his was in a very easily-seen place, the black ivy and dark grey aster that
would eventually fill with colour tracing around the left of his face, over his
eyebrow. It was another reason for his dad to ignore him.
meant something. His mark being flowers just made it easier to discern. His dad’s
mark was a flower too – an orange lily. Hatred.
mark was on her stomach, just above her belly-button. It seemed that flowers
were a thing on both sides of his family, because hers was a strange mix of
symbols, twirling in a spiral of azalea petals in such a beautiful, realistic way
that if it hadn’t been tattooed to his mother’s skin, he would have thought it
real. He’d been fascinated with it for a long time, but his mother never let
him see it again. Sometimes, he tried to remember what the symbols were like –
he’d draw them idly on his skin when he was bored.
“So do you,
uh, want some juice, or something?” Kara questioned him awkwardly. Carter
looked at the girl. She was trying, he could tell, but she wasn’t used to
looking after kids, and obviously nervous.
good.” He went back to writing on his arm, only to jerk as Kara knocked over
something on her desk. He looked up, staring, expecting her to curse, or
something, tidy up maybe – but she had her eyes locked on his arm, on the
writing. He glanced at it. “Can you read it?”
my name, nearly.” She looked confused. Carter blinked.
He peered at the symbols – so it was a language after all. “So it says Kara Danvers?”
“No, it’s a
really badly spelled version of my real name.” Kara reached over, taking his
wrist gently and staring at the symbols like they were the Holy Grail. “I haven’t-
I haven’t seen my name written down like this in…a long time.”
frowned at her. “Aren’t you American?” She paused, then shook her head, letting
go of his arm. “What are you then?”
else. I was adopted, after the last of my people died. Well, after nearly all
my people died. I was separated from them.”
twisted in his seat, “Were you from a tribe or something?” Kara’s lip quirked.
“No, not a
tribe. More like a supremely advanced civilisation in hiding. Here.” She
grabbed a notepad from her desk, and a pen, then – with an ease Carter had
never seen before – she wrote out the symbols that were tattooed on his mother’s
And that was
when it clicked.
“Oh my god,
you’re her.” Carter stared. “But you’ve already met!” Kara looked at him with a
his hands back and forth, trying not to attract too much attention from anyone
surrounding them while he had his revelation, while also trying to explain to
Kara without explaining that his mother
had her name.
I saw this,” he put his hand on the notepad, eyes wide. “It’s important what I
saw this on.” Everything about this was weird and strange – Kara was like, not
even thirty! His mother was fifty, or fifty-one – he wasn’t quite sure, as they
didn’t celebrate her birthday – and twenty years? Really? Carter had never seen
a soulmate gap so big before. Five years, ten, even but twenty?
you see my name before, Carter?” Her eyes were wide behind her glasses, before
they suddenly became disturbed. “Do- do you have
that name?” It took a second to translate, before Carter shook his head sharply.
Kara slumped in her seat, looking relieved.
if you had my name I’d never forgive myself.”
Things aren’t making sense. Carter pursed his lips. “Kara, how
do soulmate marks work? For your people?” Kara looked at him with fearful eyes.
“I won’t tell, I promise.” The way she talked about it – her people had to have
It was the only
idea he could think of, sue him.
nervous. She fiddled with her glasses, before clasping her hands together.
people, our soulmarks are names, that don’t come until we’ve, uh, made
something for ourselves – found our place in society.”
at her, appalled. “But that could take forever.”
strained, “On my- in my civilisation, we were given a place, and usually soon
after, our marks came in. On Earth- in National City, I mean, uh, in National
City it’s harder, obviously, but I’ll get there – I’ll get my mark.”
will it be like? Will it be a name? A picture?”
“In my people’s society, it was a name, but…if they weren’t from our
civilisation, it was a name, like in our culture, and something from there’s,
so…a picture and a name, probably, unless they’re dead.” She looked sad, at
that, and in pain. Carter looked down, remembering what she said before. After nearly all my people died. She
probably felt so lonely – and to have not used her language in years must have
“How long did
it take you to learn English?”
“A few days –
I already had the basics down. It was more the cultural and social aspects that
confused me,” Kara explained. Carter nodded, thinking more on that.
“Teach me how
to write in your language?”
“You- you want to learn?”
apparently-” Carter grinned “-I’ve been writing your name wrong. What’s your
name then, anyway, if it’s not Kara Danvers?”
“The end of Working Girl always makes me cry.”
Cat smiled, “Me
too.” She was going to leave, happy in leaving her former-assistant to herself –
only for her eyes to stray to the girl’s cheek, where her skin was shimmering
and colouring. “Kara – what’s that?” She frowned, stepping forwards quickly,
reaching up to take her chin softly, pushing her cheek sideways to watch as a
golden bouquet of daffodil started drawing itself on her face in a long line,
curving from her forehead to her chin.
“Kara, why is-”
she stopped, watching in fascination as Catherine
Grant wrote itself onto her skin in tiny, black italic, edging the petal of
the centre daffodil – small enough that from a distance it would look like a
shadow. Dear God above.
“I think you
should call me Cat,” the CEO muttered, before feeling an amazing warmth in her
stomach, tracing her soulmark like a fine-haired paintbrush. Swallowing, she
let go of her chin, stepping back and smiling tightly. “Get settled into your
And then she
did the cowardly thing and ran off.
and James half an hour later, Kara was grinning as they stared at her in shock.
promoted!” Neither of them reacted the way she thought they would. “Well? Isn’t
at your face,” Winn said in a serious tone. Kara frowned, before hearing a
whisper that surprised her.
“Since when did Kara have a soulmark on her
“A what?” She
murmured, before looking in the glass of James’ office-wall, eyes blowing wide
as she saw the faint reflection of her face. “Rao…it came in.” And there was a name on it.
going to notice, Kara – they’ll think you’re a cradle-robber,” James warned.
Kara blinked. Cradle-robber. Alex had
called her that once, when she said her mark would come in once she got a
proper job. “And what about Supergirl?”
“Uh…” oh that was problematic. And then, just to
add to that, she heard a scream. “I’ve got to go.” The glass wasn’t good enough
for her to see the name just yet, but she was meeting Carter at the library in
a few hours for lessons in Kryptonese – he could tell her.
some foundation on,” she muttered to him, before speed-walking away, covertly
grabbing Cynthia’s pale foundation as she did. I’ll get her a new bottle.
saved a woman from being murdered by her boyfriend, put together two IKEA units
– word had apparently gotten around – entertained a gaggle of girl-scouts whose
leader had gone to the bathroom, put out a house-fire and stopped a man from
committing suicide. And then Kara Danvers went to St Edmund’s Hall and signed
in as a visitor to their library and sat down in wait for Carter, wiping away
the remnants of the foundation over her newly-acquired soulmark, the fire
earlier causing it to melt a little. Hopefully
it wasn’t caught on camera.
greeted Carter as he approached.
Kara smiled at him, smiling only wider as he saw the mark on her face.
got it! And it’s like mine!” He scrambled to sit down beside her, reaching up
to push her hair out of the way, staring at it. “And I was right – you are her
soulmate.” Kara’s heart beat faster.
“Yep. I like the daffodils, by the way – so do you get the colours right in,
then?” Kara froze.
coloured? Oh no. I’ve met her
already! She’s probably wondering why I didn’t respond.”
frowned, “Wait, were you alone when it came in, do you think?”
“I don’t know
– though Ms Grant was acting a little weird after she promoted me- oh, oh. She- she must have seen it come in!
Oh my god, how am I going to explain that?”
out, she didn’t have to.
“You are a
lying liar who lies,” Cat glared as Kara entered her office. “Tell me right now
why I shouldn’t print proof that Supergirl has a soulmark identical to Kara
Danvers’?” She dropped the pile of photos on the floor. Kara, paralysed, stared
at them. “How did you even get a soulmark? I watched it form on your face. It isn’t supposed to do that – people are born with their soulmarks.”
“Not- not my
people,” Kara whispered into the deathly silence. “We gain them after we find
our place in the world. You- you promoted me. I got it because I found the
stable point of my life.”
“What do you
want me to do, Kara? I need you to tell me what you are going to do – is Supergirl
going to ‘come out’ to the world? Is she going to hide her soulmark so her normal
identity stays a secret? Give me direction, Kara, or so help me-”
“I have your
name on my soulmark,” Kara blurted out. Cat froze. “I- I read it last night. I
hadn’t looked in the mirror till then, and I saw it and I’m sorry and Carter
said he saw my name on someone once and I think he meant you but he never told
me and I’m just so sorry and-”
up,” Cat growled, stalking forwards and lifting her silken shirt to show a
tight, white band, which she lifted as well, to show Kara’s name, emblazoned
over dark pink petals that floated on her stomach in a spiral, as if the wind
had lifted them up and painted the picture onto her skin. “I know you have my
name, and I’ve been reading over the things Carter’s been bringing home and
leaving out for me on purpose. I know
this is your name, but not just because he wrote it down – I was there when it
came in, and when my mark became coloured.” She tugged the wrap and shirt down,
pursing her lips together. “People are going to think you hid your mark because
otherwise me promoting you would seem like favouritism. If you want to keep
working for CatCo after this, you’ll need to fill it in.”
c-cover it?” Kara said, startled by Cat’s honesty.
silence filled the air, before Cat spoke again, shaking her head.
the entire time. No wonder he kept asking to see you again, for me to give you
a promotion, to get you out from under my thumb into your own department…”
fiddled with her glasses. “Would it be inappropriate to ask you out at some point?”
“Very. But go
her eyes. “Let me give you an incentive, Keira.”
Then, she stepped forwards, taking Kara’s face in her hands and leaning up on
her tiptoes, pressing a kiss to her lips, before whispering lowly, “Ask me out
at some point, Kara, and while I have this chance, tell Carter something for
whispered, staring into Cat’s very
beautiful eyes. Cat gave a smirk worthy of her name.
“Tell him to
stop meddling in my love-life – I can get my own soulmate.”
In a post that you made long ago, you said you carried all the ingredients for making a home within yourself. My question is - how do you do that? How do you become independent and competent and resourceful to a degree - self-sufficient?
Well, my grandmother taught me to sew and my mother taught me to cook and clean; my father taught me to build a fire and budget, and my girl scout troop leaders taught me to hold a hammer and use power tools—so you could say I inherited it, just by watching them. And if you like, I can list off the Necessary Skills, or what I think is necessary (cook chicken, sew a hem, stick to a budget, unclog a toilet, clean an oven, remove a stain)
But in all honesty, I’m not sure how helpful that is. Instead, I think this is a—a mindset, a kind of instilled faith and willingness to learn how to hammer a nail, to take out the trash, scour a tub. That you can and so you will.
I mean, we live smack dab in the information age, nothing known is not knowable via a decent internet connection. You can look up six different recipes for the same dish, there are tutorials on how to soak chiffon. If you never learned how from the people in your life, the information is there, and a youtube video can’t judge you if the finished product doesn’t look right.
Which means that the only thing standing between you and that competency and self-sufficiency is your willingness to learn, and practice—not just the first time, but all the times after. To continue to scrub the tile with barkeeper’s friend, and clip coupons week after week, to wash the windowsills in the spring. To look up new things, and add them to your repertoire.
“Learn and practice” is a tall order, it sounds easy when actually it’s unbelievably difficult. (I’m not great at following it myself.) But it’s the truest and most universally applicable advice I’ve got, and the advice with the greatest payoff when followed.
The resources are out there. The competency comes with practice. And the self-sufficiency starts with deciding that you can, and so you will.