- finger fuzz/hair
- not having holes in my armpits because my arms are so skinny
- my second toe is longer than the rest
hi my name is gabrielle nora.
I don't ever look both ways when crossing the street.
I studied things like English, Political Science and
Pre-Law and Public Relations at a small liberal arts college in Northern Florida.
I just moved to Washington, D.C. and later this year I'm going to begin graduate studies in Political Communication.
I'm a total shitshow
but it can be endearing,
or so I've been told.
ask me anything, tell me anything
Losing weight is not your life’s work, and counting calories is not the call of your soul. You surely are destined for something much greater, much bigger, than shedding 20 pounds or tallying calories.
What would happen if, instead of worrying about what you had for breakfast, you focused instead on becoming exquisitely comfortable with who you are as a person? Instead of scrutinizing yourself in the mirror, looking for every bump and bulge, you turned your gaze inward?
Lisa Turner (via vamoose)
We stand helpless before the corporate onslaught. There is no way to vote against corporate power. Citizens have no way to bring about the prosecution of Wall Street bankers and financiers for fraud, military and intelligence officials for torture and war crimes, or security and surveillance officers for human rights abuses. The Federal Reserve is reduced to printing money for banks and financiers and lending it to them at almost zero percent interest; corporate officers then lend it to us at usurious rates as high as 30 percent. I do not know what to call this system. It is certainly not capitalism. Extortion might be a better word. The fossil fuel industry, meanwhile, relentlessly trashes the ecosystem for profit. The melting of 40 percent of the summer Arctic sea ice is, to corporations, a business opportunity. Companies rush to the Arctic and extract the last vestiges of oil, natural gas, minerals and fish stocks, indifferent to the death pangs of the planet. The same corporate forces that give us endless soap operas that pass for news, from the latest court proceedings surrounding O.J. Simpson to the tawdry details of the Jodi Arias murder trial, also give us atmospheric concentrations of carbon dioxide that surpass 400 parts per million. They entrance us with their electronic hallucinations as we waiver, as paralyzed with fear as Odysseus’ sailors, between Scylla and Charybdis.
You guys, this elderly lady was in the middle of the bravest interview while standing on the top of what used to be her house when someone off screen finds her dog. You guys. GUYS. You guys.
Click through for the video.
There are 0 words for the rage inside me today.
Stay out of my way.
Having an anxiety attack feels like you’re holding your breath for a really really long time but in the same moment all you want to do is gasp for air or cry or throw up but you can’t do any of that because you’re holding your breath. It’s lining up everything on your side table perfectly for the ninth time, sweeping the house four times to make sure you got everything, taking compulsive showers where you scrub yourself until your red all over. And after all that you’re still holding the same stale air in your chest and none of your reading is done still.
I need to find boxes so Brad and I can move our stuff and post on Blackboard three times about four different readings I haven’t done and dry and straighten my hair and finish my laundry and I have a 9 am staff meeting and then a day of bullshit followed by a 3 (LOL) hour class and then Brad comes home tomorrow after that which means essentially right now I need to clean my apartment and room and also do all those other things and still be in bed by around right now. I really really really am not being dramatic when I say I think I’m going to snap my own neck if my head doesn’t spontaneously combust at some point in the next 72 hours. Maybe I’m being a little dramatic. Take a bow.