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Heat index was 110 degrees so we offered him a cold drink. He went for a full body soak instead

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the man who owns and runs the thai restaurant in my town knows me by name. he is one of the kindest and most thoughtful men i know. i started ordering from his place back in january, which was when i got my fibromyalgia diagnosis. back then i was using a walker, had limited mobility in my entire body but especially my hands, and was very visibly in pain. i always ordered the same thing: yellow curry with no meat, potatoes and carrots only (i have texture and other dietary issues). he always made it a point to make sure i could get out the door and carry the food safely. he had his workers package the food so that it was easier for me to open. as i kept coming back and i told him a little bit about my health status, he would always encourage me to keep going. he told me about how the spices he used were good for inflammation and began to edit the recipe just for me so that spices that were even better for fighting inflammation were used. he’d give me extra portions and despite the fact that i would tip every time, i realized later that he never charged my card for them. as time went on and my condition began to get better, especially with the help of a physical therapist, he would make encouraging remarks and tell me how happy he was for me. the day i came in without my walker, he practically jumped for joy, and despite my insistence, he gave me my meal for free that day. i continue to make progress with my conditions and i continue to go to the thai place. this man who does not know me personally and who i hardly know anything about is one of my favorite people. it’s interactions with humans like these that make loving life easier. and his curry really does help my chronic condition. it’s comfort food taken to the next level.

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Y’ever read something and have understanding that has eluded you interminably suddenly stop, curl up, and snuggle neatly into a fold in your brain because a new way opened to it?

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I have to tell you about the Abuela on my street.

She is nearly 70 years old, with wonderfully brown gnarled, wrinkled hands and eyes that are creased from smiling. She hand-makes all of her own clothes and sews dolls for my little sister. Abuela is very lonely… her husband already passed and her kids live far away. She misses her grandkids. Abuela comes around our place for the company almost every other day.

So this morning, my little sister and I went to visit the Abuela to return the kindness of her vegetables with some homemade soup.

It’s a funny joke we have, that if you can make a perfect posole you are wife material. I was joking around with my friend beforehand to see if I was worthy of marriage, and my little sister thinks me failing is the best thing in life, so of course she wants to ask Abuela when we arrive.

We’re wearing masks and gloves and can’t give her the big hug like we want to, but Abuela is always happy to see us. We bring the pot of soup to her table. My little sis, the little shit that she is, immediately asks, “Abuela, is Reina ready to be a wife yet?”

And Abuela immediately shifts her entire mood. Her face literally becomes this:

Abuela’s look pierces through my heart.

“Who are you trying to impress? A man or a woman?” she asks, deadly serious. We have broached the topic of marriage. It is her domain now.

And I, Rei, gay as the fourth of July, cannot believe that either Abuela clocked me instantly or that she could possibly have a fascinating past of her own. 

I thought about lying, but my little sister was there and I don’t like to lie in front of her. So I was honest and said I was trying to impress a woman.

Without a response, Abuela carefully tries the posole. The room is silent.

“For a man, it’s good,” she says after a moment. “But, you’ll need to work harder to impress a woman.”

All I can do is politely nod. I have so many questions.

Now Abuela is tired. She wants to eat and relax in peace, so she waves us away. We make sure she’s settled, and then my sister and I go home.

I can’t believe my 70 year old Abuela said BI RIGHTS

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dream by the sea; big sur, california

instagram - twitter - website

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Fluff bunn

(via)

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ma’am could you please take a step back. yes—yes ma’am it’s because of your AOE poison attack aura

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Koga: welcome to my poison-type ninja gym. it’s full of jugglers who use psychic-types. fuck you for thinking you know me.

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everyone keeps making fun of phoenix wright for interogating a parrot but no one ever talks about how von karma somehow had the foresight to fucking retrain the parrot in advance. how fucking crazy is that. its one thing for phoenix to grasp at straws and ask the judge to cross examine a parrot in the heat of the moment, its another thing for a grown ass accomplished prosecutor to stop in the middle of schemeing to be like... hmm i have tampered with all the witnesses now... but let me just retrain this parrot in case wright calls it to the stand. like, he had NO reason to assume that was going to happpen

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It's so messed up that Coca Cola is one of the quintessential symbols of the US globally, a drink sold across the world and known for being refreshing and delicious, but if you actually go to the US and drink it, it tastes like ass.

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Amazing

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