how am i supposed to can



Well, its finally done, in all its lack of glory!  I meant for this to be a Valentine’s Day video, but what was supposed to be a weekend project just turned into a months-swallowing video monster.  And as we all know, I can’t leave a project undone no matter how ill-advised it is.  But it was educational, and the next time I attempt a video like this I know what I need to do differently.  So here you go internet, just what you’ve always wanted: another list video!  But at least now I am free to start on projects that actually matter.  Like taxes.  Ug.  Sometimes being an adult is the worst.  

anonymous asked:

I feel like I'm never good enough for anyone. All I want is to make people happy and I feel like no matter how hard I try I can't even do that much. Like am I doing something wrong? Am I not trying hard enough? Am I just here for convenience? I feel so useless and unneeded. I don't want to seem attention seeking, because I'm not trying to be. I just feel really shitty about myself and feel like I don't belong anywhere.

Just remember that you are only human. Realize that you are not perfect nor is anyone else. We are not meant to be. We are supposed to help each other and grow together. Perhaps other people said or did things that you internalized as you not being good enough. You must realize you are unique and valued. Start to value yourself, build on your confidence and see that you have a lot to offer people. You are good enough. You are loved. You are not alone. You are smart enough. You are pretty enough. Please, take care, beautiful soul. I love you!

anonymous asked:

You can't just let Ehasz off the hook for obvious plotholes just because an episode was written by Bryke. For example, you recently mentioned the Kyoshi Warriors weren't supposed to be at the Boiling Rock, so Ty Lee shouldn't have been able to join them - this is exactly the type of glaring continuity slip-up that a HEAD WRITER is supposed to catch.

Aaron Ehasz didn’t want Ty Lee to join the Kyoshi Warriors, though. So I can’t blame him for that. He didn’t want Aang and Katara to get into a relationship, either. And he said that Aang hitting the rock to unblock his chakra was “silly”. He was responding like a viewer would. Meaning he had no say in that decision. Sounds like Bryke had full control over the Book 3 finale. I am sure he argued with them about how certain things were stupid, but they didn’t listen.

A Mess

Sing me to sleep and
Then leave me alone
Life is so tiring
I’d rather be gone

School is exhausting
My grades sink and sink
The chaos in my head
Makes it hard to think

Resistance seems futile
The war rages on
Emotions confuse me
It’s hard to be strong

I want to go home,
Feel to hopeless to fight
But I’m on my own, still,
So broken inside

Can’t focus on nothing
And always forget
I’d figure this out if
I wasn’t so sad

Or desperate, or lonely,
This anger destroys
My every being
Strips me of all joys

How am I supposed to
Keep going like this
I’m barely surviving
Don’t know how to live

People’s expectations
Just tear me apart
No place in this world for
A fragile, soft heart

They want me to function
Be nice and pretend
I’d fit in with people
I don’t understand

(My poems are messy
All over the place
No straight line of thinking
For structure no space)

How often my conversations about feminism have spiraled into requests for assault. I say, “Women don’t need men to defend them,” and am asked, “Can I punch you, then?” And I say, “Women belong in movies and video games and everything,” and I hear terrible things, unprintable slurs and demands for my assault, the threatening of a young woman to shut up: What they would do to silence me. The things they’d shove between my teeth. I say, “Men cannot threaten any woman they disagrees with,” and I’m told, “Women are just as cruel. Am I not supposed to respond in kind?” In my inbox today I have deleted sixteen messages asking for my life. When I say, “Your virginity only means what you want it to mean,” I’m asked, “If you believe in sexual freedom can I fuck you?” When I say “All it takes to be a woman is to want to be a woman,” I am asked, “So if I just say that I’m a woman, can I watch you in the shower?” As if women stand shadowy behind each other in our private moments. As if being woman means sexually assaulting each other.

Part of me - cynical, unwilling to be frightened, says that it might be a nice dose of reality. My shower where I am naked but my hair becomes streaky and thin, where my body sags, where my makeup smears. To witness a woman less than sexy, legs akimbo while shaving, pulling up flab thighs to reach the underside. Part of me dares them to punch me because I fight to win and am small but I’ll kill a man if he touches me. Once I dropped a U.S Marine. Part of me, hellfire and ice queen - says come on, then. You want a fight? Come fight me.

But more is scared. More timidly deletes messages, makes sure my name is hidden, doesn’t answer the endless antifeminist comments. The insertion of men and their opinion on simple things like “I teach children to ask before hugging.” When I close my eyes sometimes I wonder if they’re right and that scares me. How much am I going to change when my voice only echoes around me.

Why are you angry. Why are you angry. What do you think we are taking from you? If it’s not already equal why would equality frighten you.

The ancient art of being a woman and trying to get your voice heard: the gentle suggestion, the peaceful comment. The quiet listening to another opinion and the fact we must acknowledge it before we can continue. That I must educate, be sweet, be feminine in my feminism or else it’s “invalid.” I must present my declaration as a timid thing: “Women maybe should be part of more things.” And then the apologies: of course I don’t hate men, yes I like plenty of things with men in them, no I don’t think women are better. And then the explanations: women are people, here is the number of women in media, here is the number of dead women in media, here are the number of shows led by men. And then I brace for it. For the bullying.

Every time I speak it’s from a flinch. From “maybe this isn’t always the case but for me it is.” From please listen. From less demanding. God forbid I state factually that men are violent. If I speak about our fathers and brothers and the cycle of anger unfolding. God forbid I suggest that just once we should cut the bullshit and treat women well without pandering to men about how that helps them. What if I say “Men shouldn’t hit anyone. Hitting isn’t an answer.”

I’ll tell you what happens. The post was up for four seconds with three notes. The message I get is “If hitting isn’t allowed I’ll just go ahead and shove a gun down your throat.”

“I feel homeless. Like this isn’t the place that I thought it was. I feel like I don’t understand where I am. Where we all are. Last week students started chanting ‘build the wall’ in the lunchroom of a local middle school. Some of the Hispanic children started crying. If you’re the principal– how are you supposed to stop that behavior? If the president can behave in a certain way, how are you supposed to tell a child that it’s unacceptable? How does that hold up? It breaks my heart. I’ve had friends reach out to me. They’ve told me: ‘I understand the reasons that you’re upset. But those aren’t the reasons I voted for him.’ And I’m just starting to understand that. I’m realizing that a lot of people wanted change more than they wanted kids not to cry. We all have our own code of ethics. My bottom line happened to be tolerance. Their bottom line was abortion. Or the Supreme Court. I guess we all have the right to choose our own bottom line.“

How I broke my 6th Graders Today

Student: “Miss, my little brother in your 4th grader class says you speak seven languages. Is that true?”

Me: “Yes.”

Student: "He says you speak Mongolian. Is that true?”

Me: “Yes.”

Student: “Can you say something”

Me: *explains, in Mongolian, that although I speak Mongolian, being that this is an English school, I am supposed to teach classes in English, so I have to speak English, sorry*

Collective Students: “Wow! Amazing!!!” *cheering*

One student slowly raises hand: “Miss, does that mean that you can…understand us when we speak Mongolian?”

Me: *Slowly leans over desk and puts on an evil grin. Single nod*

All students: *Terrified screaming*

every day i pick up a pen and paper and try to put together a well worded letter about how you made me feel, and every time, i rip the letter into a million pieces and throw it away; tell me, how am i supposed to put a well worded letter together when i can’t even pick up the broken parts of me and place them back together after you left?
angst prompts
  1. “You say you love me. So what? You wouldn’t be the first and you certainly won’t be the last.”
  2. “I don’t need you. I don’t need any of you.”
  3. “Despite what many think, I am completely capable of taking care of myself.”
  4. “Take one more step in that direction and I will kill you.”
  5. “How funny. You thought I cared.”
  6. “This is what I was trying to avoid! All of this!”
  7. “I am not a prize to be won.”
  8. “Everyday, I need you more and everyday, you push me further away.”
  9. “Nothing matters anymore.”
  10. “Tell me what happened. Tell me why everything changed.”
  11. “You can’t keep hurting me and then demand I apologize instead!
  12. “Jesus, you’re acting like you don’t even want to touch me!”
  13. “All the money in the world can’t make you happy. How am I supposed to?”
  14. “You’re so determined to protect yourself and your feelings, but what about me?”
  15. “You betrayed me!”
  16. “I’m trying, can’t you see? Isn’t that enough for you?”
  17. “You’ll die and I can’t watch the person I love die.”
  18. “I don’t love you. I never have.”
  19. “Do not try and spin this to be my fault instead of yours.”
  20. “For once, stop pretending you’re okay! Just talk to me!”

I love angst and I felt like making some prompts so here you go! Feel free to send some in to me!


“You died on a Saturday morning. And I had you placed here under our tree. And I had that house of your father’s bulldozed to the ground. Mama always said dyin’ was a part of life. I sure wish it wasn’t. Little Forrest, he’s doing just fine. About to start school again soon. I make his breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day. I make sure he combs his hair and brushes his teeth every day. Teaching him how to play ping-pong. He’s really good. We fish a lot. And every night, we read a book. He’s so smart, Jenny. You’d be so proud of him. I am. He, uh, wrote a letter, and he says I can’t read it. I’m not supposed to, so I’ll just leave it here for you. Jenny, I don’t know if Mama was right or if, if it’s Lieutenant Dan. I don’t know if we each have a destiny, or if we’re all just floating around accidental-like on a breeze, but I, I think maybe it’s both. Maybe both is happening at the same time. I miss you, Jenny. If there’s anything you need, I won’t be far away.”  Forrest Gump (1994) dir. Robert Zemeckis

Is nobody gonna talk about the cupboards?? HOW the fuck is anybody supposed to reach them?? Yang isn’t that small after all, and looking at Tai you can’t tell me that he would get a plate out of them without using a ladder!

Also, that is one big ass oven. (But they probably needed it to bake all the cookies for Ruby.)