I really wasn’t feeling down to study today so I made me these to use as my desktop background
instead of studying
FOR EVERYONE WHO HAS FINALS THIS WEEK AND IS STILL ON TUMBLR
On my way to my 7 PM final! I have so many layers I could take off my jacket, shirt and pants and I would still be allowed in church! 😉 #cold #isafinalthislateevenlegal #finals #ucr #developmentalbio (at UCR Parking Lot 1)
About three things I was absolutely positive. First, I had a pokemon. Second, there was a part of me - and I didn’t know how dominant that part might be - that wanted to be the very best, like no one ever was. Third, Gary Oak was unconditionally and irrevocably a douchenozzle.
Reblogging for the comment
How old are you?
How long have you been ten?
HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN TEN
Misty looked at Ash, his breathing still heavy from carrying her on his bike as fast as he could through the long grass outside of Pallet Town.
“You’re eyes are impossibly huge and black,” Misty said. “Your hair is… incredibly pointy, and doesn’t need product. Your face changes size and shape based on your feelings… and sometimes you speak like - like you’re from the 90’s. You never spend money on anything; you don’t go to the bathroom.”
The silence hung there, thick and heavy like a Snorlax blocking the bike path.
“How old are you?” Misty asked, not sure if she wanted to know.
“Ten,” Ash replied, with a slight smirk and an almost amused tone.
Misty new that wasn’t true. Ash wasn’t like the other boys her age. He wasn’t even like her older sisters who ran the gym in Cerulean City. He was wiser and his passion was genuine.
Ash didn’t just want to catch them all, he needed to. He was going to be the best there ever was no matter how long it took, which gave Misty this nagging in the back of her mind. She had to know for sure.
“How long have you been ten?” she asked. Her voice weak, knowing full well the answer could change everything she thought she knew.
“A while…” Ash said. His voice trailing off, as if he were losing himself in a flood of memories.
Misty let out a faint gasp. She knew now. She was certain.
“I know what you are,” she declared, as if whatever had been holding her back from accepting the truth, finally let go of her hand and let her fall right down the Diglett hole.
Ash eyes were alive now, flickering like the flame on a Charmander’s tale.
He stared right into her and said, ”Say it… out loud. Say it.”
Misty’s heart was pounding louder than the thud of a Marowak’s bone club attack.
Despite the now eerily silent meadow, she could barely be heard as she whispered, “Pokemon Trainer.”
OH MY LORD HELP
High School Fashion, 1969
What a trip.
Wow these photos are stunning
Some of these outfits are the raddest things I’ve ever seen.
Can we talk about the tights.
The existence of photos like these (and similar photos from the 70s and 80s and so on) makes me wonder yet again why current-day movies set in this time never seem to be able to get the hair and clothing right.
WHY ISN’T THIS STILL HAPPENING.
This is my son, Chester, who is nearly 4. He was invited to his friend Chloe’s birthday party today, the theme was prince and princesses. He asked if he could go as Sleeping Beauty, so I bought him a dress and put a cute little clip in his hair.
We arrived at the party to the following comments from the adults present:
“Oh that is just cruel.”
"Why did you make him wear a dress?"
"Poor little man, what’s your mummy playing at?"
"He’s going to hate you when he grows up."
"No way I’d let my son dress like a girl."
The fact is, Chester is almost completely gender neutral. I let him wear what he wants, be it boys or girls clothes, and he plays with whatever toys he likes. This usually involves him holding tea parties while wearing his pink Minnie Mouse top, jeans and a tiara. The guests are more often than not a mixture of Winnie The Pooh characters, dinosaurs, Barbie, Dora and solders, and they’re usually transported in his favorite fire engine.
When my husband arrived at the party later on, he was subjected to endless ridicule from the other dad’s present about how I must keep his balls in my back pocket because otherwise he would have put his foot down and not allowed Chester out like that. Oh, and by the way, our other son dressed as Ariel. When my husband pointed out that the boys were happy, and the mother of the birthday child made a point of saying how wonderful she thought it was that we allowed them freedom of choice and expression, they then stopped talking about it to our faces and started muttering about us behind our backs.
Interestingly enough, not a single child said a word about their choice of costumes, other than to compliment Chester on his new dress.
Ok, so after learning a lot of the trans community (and still learning) I’ve stumbled on a topic that I’ve seen a couple of times on tumblr.
The legal status of gender/sex.
First off, I think it’s stupid to have a gender on an ID card because it serves NO purpose what so ever.
I believe the things on an identification card, and further all legal papers, should be things that can legally identify the individual.
So instead of Male and Female on legal documents, I think at birth (or before) you should take a karotype test and see what the chromosomes say.
And then on the document, put down what the human is. Which can be a number of things: XX, XY, XXX, XXY, XXYY or even X0 (turners syndrome.) This is for identification purposes, and simplifies it immensely.
Now, I know right now there is a strong connection between XX signifying woman/female and XY signifying man/male. But that will pass and people will become aware that even if you are not trans, there are a bunch of conditions in which an XY individual grows up and develops as female, (ex: androgen insensitivity syndrome) or where an seemingly female baby goes through life then hits puberty and her body changes, grows some balls and a penis (guevedoces.)
Sex and Gender aren’t always straight forward, just google any of the following: androgen insensitivity syndrome, guevedoces, klinefelter’s syndrome, congenital adrenal hyperplasia, XXYY syndrome, and probably a hell of a lot more I don’t know about.
So let’s say I am pregnant and my partner and I are discussing names like any other couple, the ultrasound shows it’s probably a female by gentalia and we are waiting for the karotype test results.
The doctor says that the genetic identity is XX and that is what will be on the birth certificate and the rest of her legal documents for her life.
We choose to raise her as a girl and give her the name Anna. But if at some point our daughter discovers she is a man, we will have to switch gears. If he wants to change his name and start transitioning, that’s fine.
He can change his name but that’s it, his birthday, fingerprints, retina scan, SSN and everything else stay the same. Since his DNA says XX it will always be how he is identified via blood tests and karotype tests.
So just because your child would have a genetic identification that traditionally is male, you don’t have to be traditional. Your child is XY, cool you can let him play with dolls and race cars. He can run around topless in a tutu for all I care. He can choose if he is a boy or a girl.
There is no binary when it comes to sex and gender. Not naturally any way, and therefore the current identification system of Male/Female is stupid and useless.
And even though I am a cis-female and I glare at my ID card and resent the little F next to sex.
P.S. It’s also better when you travel cause my id’s in Mexico have M next to it because in Spanish Mujer is Women, and it’s hells confusing sometimes.