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It’s been four whole years.

I know, I can’t believe it, either.

Thanks for all the memories, and here’s to making new ones.

I’m getting really sassy lately and I’m damn proud: A Joyous Rant

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WARNING: Bragging ahead because I usually don’t stand up for myself with strangers and lately I FUCKING HAVE BEEN.

I think it’s because I’ve started giving much less of a fuck about being kind to people when they’re being downright demeaning. I have tumblr to thank, for some posts that helped me reconsider the line between friendly and downright patriarchal. I have Daddy to think for making me promise I’d stop saying sorry for random stuff and for a certain something I’ll mention in a post from that weekend that I think started this whole chain of events. When I was younger, I was told a lot that I came across as unapproachable. So, I was taught to bite my tongue and smile in public and not to raise a stink.

This past week has been a really freaking saucy week and I’d like to imagine it’s gonna set the tone for the rest of my life. Because I’m getting RESULTS.

Guy in the liquor store who has repeatedly harassed me on the bus starts harassing me again and playing with my friend’s hair. Previously, I’ve set boundaries gently, but firmly, by asking him not to touch me, etc etc. This time, I’m like, “HEY. You need to stop it.” And so he calls me a drama queen and I call him a sex offender. His eyes got all big and he literally apologized and sulked out of the store.

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I’m walking to work and a construction worker comes up to me and says, “this way, young lady.” And I was really not having it and I look him right in the eyes and snap, “I’m not ‘young lady’ to you.” And he’s like, “sorry, Miss.”

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I’m walking home the other night with some friends through one of the undergrad neighborhoods and this frat bro a few feet ahead yells across the street to call his friend a “fa**ot.” I had a little liquid courage in me and I shout after him, “hey, you don’t use that word.” And he’s all, “no, it’s cool, it’s my friend.” And I’m like, “no, it is very much not cool. That is a storied and harmful word that you have no right using, kiddo. Mommy and Daddy are paying good money to send you to school so you can learn all sorts of big boy words to use besides that one. So pick a different freaking word.” And he turns and looks at me and goes, “…you’re right. I’m sorry." 

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I’m doing my mascara on the bus on the way from the gym to class. Some guy leans over and goes, "hey, I don’t think you need makeup.” And I roll my eyes and go, “this isn’t for you." 

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Moral of the story: I’ve spent a lot of freaking time being told that I’m unapproachable, unaccommodating, intimidating, when the bottom line was I should have never have been accommodating other peoples’ comfort and convenience, especially when it was making me feel uncomfortable. So, thanks, tumblr. 

Joyous rant over.

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“You haven’t updated your tumblr since Wednesday?” Craftsmate asked.

I shrugged, “I’ve been busy.”

“Well, I think it’s something you should be doing every day,” he said. “Or I’ll punish you.” By the way he was smiling, I wasn’t sure if this was an excuse to just punish me or a way to motivate me to write about some of the really blushy stuff that has happened lately.

But, ah, that’s a thing now. So keep your eyes peeled: I’ll be giving some fun updates now that I’ve caught a little bit of a break from work.

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nanking-decade:

Mrs. Hedera was not informed that her husband had listed her as collateral to the loansharks.

So, a certain somebody in my life made a tumblr recently and decided to get a little bit clever. 

I’m not saying who, but I’m sure you can figure it out.

And, no, my last name isn’t Hedera.

Well, it happened.

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I received an ask yesterday from somebody from Ivy University. Who identified that I, too, was from Ivy University.

I read the email about it while on break and just about had a panic attack. I felt nauseous. I used the email in the ask to send the person a message and the whole time wondered if I would have to close up shop. 

I have always, always been worried about this tumblr being discovered. Being the worrier I am, I assumed this person might be one of my friends, or – much worse – one of the people I mention on my tumblr. 

Fortunately, after some correspondence, we have concluded that we don’t run in the same social circles at all, aren’t in the same year and most likely don’t know each other. Which is, yeah, sort of a relief. Naturally, I’m still a reasonable amount concerned about things. And, it’s a little strange to bridge the gap between tumblr persona and real life self. While we don’t know each other’s names, it’s still odd.

Bottom line: Ivy thought her greatest fear of being discovered had been realized and had a panic attack, but things aren’t so bad after all.

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Grammar police. And spelling. For serious.

Seriously. I’m trying to find more tumblrs to follow and the results have just been bleak lately. I really want people who put commentary to their photos, whether it be about themselves or not. I follow enough photo-only tumblrs. I want to read.

Well, I’ve learned that if I make a request of the Internet, I need to make my request specific. And I’ll preface this by saying yes, I do have the occasional grammar or spelling error. My syntax isn’t always 100%. But I do try. And I do go back and edit if I notice later.

But, back on track, I found myself some tumblrs with commentary. It’s just that this commentary looks like a hastily written “help being kidnapped and taken to the docks to get fed to the sharks send help” note. I just can’t stand it. I’m sorry I’m elitist. I can’t do it.

Best moment, though? Well, that would be reading “and ill shove his cook into your mouth slut”. I guess she’ll take his gardener in her ass later. I’m sorry if I’m coming off as a bitch, but it’s almost hilarious.

Yes, Arrested Development is my favorite television show (its cancellation was, pardon my nerdy fan joke, a terrible mistake). And Gob is my absolute favorite character.