"Mildred Reed is his first-great-grandmother on George Washington, and on Obama, Mildred Reed is his tenth-great-grandmother."
- BridgeAnne d’Avignon, 12-year-old genealogist
I know, six months late to the party, my mind is still blown. All US presidents except Martin van Buren are descended from John Lackland Plantagenet. Yes, that John Lackland Plantaganet. Yes, all US presidents as of 2013.
12-Year-Old Discovers All U.S. Presidents Are Direct Descendants of King John Of England (by CONTAGIONNEWSdotcom)
Let the obsessive research begin!
After learning my flight was detained 4 hours,
I heard the announcement:
If anyone in the vicinity of gate 4-A understands any Arabic,
Please come to the gate immediately.
Well—one pauses these days. Gate 4-A was my own gate. I went there.
An older woman in full traditional Palestinian dress,
Just like my grandma wore, was crumpled to the floor, wailing loudly.
Help, said the flight service person. Talk to her. What is her
Problem? we told her the flight was going to be four hours late and she
I put my arm around her and spoke to her haltingly.
Shu dow-a, shu- biduck habibti, stani stani schway, min fadlick,
Sho bit se-wee?
The minute she heard any words she knew—however poorly used—
She stopped crying.
She thought our flight had been canceled entirely.
She needed to be in El Paso for some major medical treatment the
Following day. I said no, no, we’re fine, you’ll get there, just late,
Who is picking you up? Let’s call him and tell him.
We called her son and I spoke with him in English.
I told him I would stay with his mother till we got on the plane and
Would ride next to her—Southwest.
She talked to him. Then we called her other sons just for the fun of it.
Then we called my dad and he and she spoke for a while in Arabic and
Found out of course they had ten shared friends.
Then I thought just for the heck of it why not call some Palestinian
Poets I know and let them chat with her. This all took up about 2 hours.
She was laughing a lot by then. Telling about her life. Answering
She had pulled a sack of homemade mamool cookies—little powdered
Sugar crumbly mounds stuffed with dates and nuts—out of her bag—
And was offering them to all the women at the gate.
To my amazement, not a single woman declined one. It was like a
Sacrament. The traveler from Argentina, the traveler from California,
The lovely woman from Laredo—we were all covered with the same
Powdered sugar. And smiling. There are no better cookies.
And then the airline broke out the free beverages from huge coolers—
Non-alcoholic—and the two little girls for our flight, one African
American, one Mexican American—ran around serving us all apple juice
And lemonade and they were covered with powdered sugar too.
And I noticed my new best friend—by now we were holding hands—
Had a potted plant poking out of her bag, some medicinal thing,
With green furry leaves. Such an old country traveling tradition. Always
Carry a plant. Always stay rooted to somewhere.
And I looked around that gate of late and weary ones and thought,
This is the world I want to live in. The shared world.
Not a single person in this gate—once the crying of confusion stopped
—has seemed apprehensive about any other person.
They took the cookies. I wanted to hug all those other women too.
This can still happen anywhere.
Not everything is lost.
Naomi Shihab Nye (b. 1952), “Wandering Around an Albuquerque Airport Terminal.” I think this poem may be making the rounds, this week, but that’s as it should be. (via oliviacirce)
One of the best pieces I have read on tumblr.
I will always reblog this.
Ocelot by Cheryl Gorske
A sense of humor can make everything better. Sex isn’t like it is in the movies or in porn. There will be strange and weird and awkward sounds, there might be a silly interruption like the cat or a kid… you might knock heads or trip getting undressed. Sex is funny, foreplay is funny and sometimes you need to just laugh. It will keep things from getting awkward! If you take sex too seriously you aren’t truly enjoying it!
Not to mention a sense of humor can be really sexy no matter what your gender identity is!
this comic is literally my favorite thing on tumblr.
i’ve always said if you can’t laugh with the person you’re having sex with while you’re having sex with them you shouldn’t be having sex with them.
My husband once walked up behind me while i was sitting in the living room just watching t.v…and he put his penis on my shoulder and said “hello..”
THIS WAS HIS SEDUCTION.
THIS WAS HIS IDEA OF HOW TO GET ME INTO BED.
it worked, but not before I laughed for days.
For that last comment.
I always had a ton of weird funky condoms at my place because I volunteered with Planned Parenthood and did a lot of sex education and sex positive work. I literally had no less than like thirty different types of condoms at a time. So when it came time to grabbing a condom it was a grab bag of WHO KNOWS what you’ll end up with.
Long story short, my boyfriend grabs one, puts it on, heat of the moment type thing, a some point we both look down and see it’s an ELECTRIC GREEN condom. Dead pan he looks me straight in the eye and in his best impression goes “HEY HO. KERMIT DEE FROG HERE.” And I COMPLETELY LOST IT.
On a completely different occasion I said “don’t stop” and he sang ALL of Don’t Stop Believing. All of it. All of it. Right then and there. Without stopping.
Can I add the story about how me and one of my partners had a very enthralling discussion about deserts while I was on top of him?
Or the time my partner’s friends blasted “Eye of the Tiger” through the door and we rocked it out to the beat while quoting the movie?
I was with this girl during a trip out to Washington, we’d hung out a few times, and hit it off really well. So we got together one afternoon. Her dorm-mate came home, saw the “Do Not Disturb” sock on her bedroom door and called out “Thrusters to full!”
Not missing a beat the girl and I yelled back “We’re giving it all we’ve got, Captain!” and her roommate started fucking dying outside the door.
Probably should have proposed right on the spot, but whatever.
Night and Sleep.
Evelyn de Morgan, 1878.