“My cousin Helen, who is in her 90s now, was in the Warsaw ghetto during World War II. She and a bunch of the girls in the ghetto had to do sewing each day. And if you were found with a book, it was an automatic death penalty. She had gotten hold of a copy of ‘Gone With the Wind’, and she would take three or four hours out of her sleeping time each night to read. And then, during the hour or so when they were sewing the next day, she would tell them all the story. These girls were risking certain death for a story. And when she told me that story herself, it actually made what I do feel more important. Because giving people stories is not a luxury. It’s actually one of the things that you live and die for.” –Neil Gaiman
In Dutch, when you boil an egg and then place it into cold water to make it easier to peel an egg, it’s called “to scare” the eggs.
One day when I was about 6 or 7, my mom asked me to “scare” the eggs. So, little joker I was, lifted the lid of the pan and yelled “BOOO!”
My mom cracked up and has been telling this story ever since, for over 20 years. She’s come to love the story and still truly thinks that I wanted to really “scare” the eggs. Truth is I knew what “scaring an egg” meant and only wanted to make her laugh because she was in a sad place and time back then.
It’s made her laugh for over 20 fucking years, that means it’s the best joke I’ve ever pulled off and I’d die before I’d let her find out I was just kidding.
I didn’t know I could fall more in love with you until today.
We were at work and you walked away into the back singing the “you’re welcome” song from Moana. My heart got a little happier because you were so cute when you did it.
apparently my boss who is a professor at my school doesn’t have a cell phone and his coworkers were upset by this so they bought him a childs toy phone and labeled it “David’s jitterbug” (for those of you that don’t know jitterbugs are phones made for old people that have like massive buttons and shit) so the other day I walked into his office to ask him a question and he pressed a button on it which made it start loudly playing the ABCs and he said “excuse me I have to take this” and then started singing along to the ABCs while shooing me out of his office
i want to live life with you. not just the big moments, the parties, the concerts, the exciting parts of life, but the little things too. i want to go grocery shoping with you, decorate for the holidays together, see your beadhead in the morning. i wanna live my day to day with you by my side.
You can’t choose who you love, so how about you choose to be happy.
I’ve had to learn this lesson twice, once when I was 13, and now when I’m nearing 20.
When I was 13 I came out as gay to my entire family. For seven years this was my life.
Until about two months ago when I started hanging out with a guy named Josh. He knew I was a lesbian and respected that. And I knew he was straight and I respected that. We both considered eachother good company. We work together so I see him 40+ hours a week. We started hanging out every night. He taught me how to play cribbage, we would get high, drink, get high again. And all while doing this we’re talking. Talking about life, the world, how cold and ugly people can be.
So funny story, we started a rumor at work that we were dating, I was his Maria pie and he was my Joshy poo.
And people would believe us and then remember I’m gay. But some we had convinced.
Well my friends. I fell completely and totally in love with him.
And as I’m sitting here taking a bath while his brother and him play beer pong and having a good time together, I can definitely say, I chose to be happy and to let my self love freely.
when I was in high school my AP english teacher told us we weren’t allowed to eat in class so I took that as a personal challenge to see what the most ridiculous thing I could eat in class without getting caught was so I started bringing soup to class and as soon as I’d crack the lid of my thermos the tiniest bit this football player that sat like 3 rows in front of me would going “I SMELL MEAT SOMEONE HAS SOUP” and no one ever believed him
my human says he has to leave all the time to make moneys to buy me treats and squeaks. i’m sad when he leaves but i’m always very wiggly when i get squeaks and treats. not sure how to feel