Carpenter Strikes Me As Someone Who Always Has Sunglasses Of Some Sort. Like To Hide As Much Of Her Face/emotions

I walked into a lab one time, feeling like I was on deaths door, and the TA took one look at me said “As long as that’s not a hangover, I’ll cover for you.”

I said “Believe me I WISH this was a hangover” he marked me present and I immediately went home and slept for 2 days.

Hey students, here’s a pro tip: do not write an email to your prof while you’re seriously sick.

Signed, a person who somehow came up with “dear hello, I am sick and not sure if I’ll be alive to come tomorrow and I’m sorry, best slutantions, [name]”.

Listen to me. Listen to me. Listen to me. Listen to me.

I know there is a lot of discourse (tm) around this right now but listen to me

sometimes you do just have to lie to children.

i'm down to fuck

-ing isolate myself from everyone i love

She snapped because it’s infuriating how people will twist practices that make perfect sense as a way to turn a profit or to accuse producers/processors of wasting food or ruining product for something as silly as food not being “pretty.”

Yes, food waste is an issue, but it’s not the issue you think it is.

Very informative thread -source

marvel vs dc

the nights sister carpenter refers to as "the worst nights of her life" are related to the horrible things she did to other people, rather than the horrible things other people did to her

why does no one ever talk about how lewis and clark met why isn’t that taught in history classes it’s like some rom-com meet-funny trope and i’ve literally never heard it brought up. literally the start of one of the most famous friendships in america and no one talks about it.

the fact that walls get dusty is ridiculous. you're vertical. act like it.

Repeat after me: - Veganism is not affordable - Veganism is not cruelty free - Veganism is not the best choice for everyone

dark academia but you live in the countryside

wax jackets (barbour or similar) with lots of pockets… you can carry so many books in a poacher’s pocket

battered leather boots that were smart once

walking through a village graveyard with the sun at your back, warming you slightly in the crisp morning

always carrying a pocketknife (opinels are preferable)

tweed jackets - practical and warm (and classic da)

sketching the animals and plants around you and pinning them up in your room

collecting insects and labelling them neatly in their boxes

finding a sun-bleached sheep skull on a mountainside and taking it home

wandering across fields and moors with no particular aim in mind, and a hip flask full of whisky to keep you warm

stone churches in tiny villages, the smell of old bibles, sun through stained glass windows

taking a stack of books down to the river to sit and read in the sun

riding your bike down to the village library, occupying the only table for the afternoon

paddling barefoot down freezing streams, trousers rolled to your knees, cutting your feet on the rocks and feeling alive