Sometimes, girls take girls to the prom. If this gallery proves anything, it’s that it’s damn adorable when they do.
Remember that really important thing you were supposed to do? Oh, right, you didn’t, because you forgot. Don’t worry! You’re not alone! Come tell Gabby all about it in our FRIDAY OPEN THREAD.
We’re all staying up all night. Everyone’s in the other bathroom. We wrote BUS NOTES! Everyone’s going home. It sucks. We were gonna do Ouija board and ask Kurt Cobain if Courtney Love killed him, but considering Noreen went to bed already I don’t think it’s gonna happen.
For the sake of religious people I apologise but in a church with my partner at the time tied to the cross.
Against the crumbling facade of an old Spanish bordello in the Arizona borderlands, while close friends and coworkers danced to a classic rock jam band playing in the courtyard of the cantina next door.
In the mountains of a foreign country far away from home overlooking a fucking castle in the town below, on a very random bed which just seemed to have been dropped up there. It was a full moon and big fires were lit. I would have felt like some kind of Disney princess if it wasn’t for the raging drunkenness. And the fucking, obviously.
A youth hostel bathroom in Portland. A group of Dutch lads started cheering outside.
It is expected that SCOTUS will rule in favor of marriage equality. And if that is the case, gay marriage opponents will likely start to promote a new issue – provisional ‘opt-out’ proposals that will protect conservative religious officials who want to avoid involvement in same-sex weddings. Sound familiar?
I had entered adulthood knowing that I was queer and also knowing that I wanted a child. I understood that getting pregnant would require some money, and some sourcing of anonymous sperm. This struck me as a small obstacle, a hurdle I might easily clear. But I hadn’t anticipated the months I would spend in weekly debates with my partner trying to convince her to have kids.
Jennifer via Makin’ Babies: Getting Pregnant On a Whim
Names have a lot of magic in them. In folklore, the idea of knowing someone or something’s true name is a powerful one, and someone sharing it with you is them at their most vulnerable. Many Catholic parents, mine included, name their children after saints of people from the Bible. Our obsession with names doesn’t end there: next, a Catholic will go through the sacrament of Confirmation, becoming a full member of the church, at which point we chose another saint we want to emulate and we take their name. Names are bigger than the letters that make them up. They fit an entire personality inside them, an entire history, they fit an entire soul.
The journey to finding and deciding on my real name, Melinda Valdivia Rude, took about four years.
