“Don’t ever feel bad for making a decision that upsets other people. You are not responsible for their happiness. You are responsible for your happiness.”
Isaiah Henkel (via bleuclementine)
I think the saddest people always try their hardest to make people happy
because they know what it’s like to feel absolutely worthless
and they don’t want anyone else to feel like that.”
Robin Williams (via kiddings)
Why is it that people are willing to spend $20 on a bowl of pasta with sauce that they might actually be able to replicate pretty faithfully at home, yet they balk at the notion of a white-table cloth Thai restaurant, or a tacos that cost more than $3 each? Even in a city as “cosmopolitan” as New York, restaurant openings like Tamarind Tribeca (Indian) and Lotus of Siam (Thai) always seem to elicit this knee-jerk reaction from some diners who have decided that certain countries produce food that belongs in the “cheap eats” category—and it’s not allowed out. (Side note: How often do magazine lists of “cheap eats” double as rundowns of outer-borough ethnic foods?)
Yelp, Chowhound, and other restaurant sites are littered with comments like, “$5 for dumplings?? I’ll go to Flushing, thanks!” or “When I was backpacking in India this dish cost like five cents, only an idiot would pay that much!” Yet you never see complaints about the prices at Western restaurants framed in these terms, because it’s ingrained in people’s heads that these foods are somehow “worth” more. If we’re talking foie gras or chateaubriand, fair enough. But be real: You know damn well that rigatoni sorrentino is no more expensive to produce than a plate of duck laab, so to decry a pricey version as a ripoff is disingenuous. This question of perceived value is becoming increasingly troublesome as more non-native (read: white) chefs take on “ethnic” cuisines, and suddenly it’s okay to charge $14 for shu mai because hey, the chef is ELEVATING the cuisine.”
One of the entries from the list ‘20 Things Everyone Thinks About the Food World (But Nobody Will Say)’. (via crankyskirt)
sometimes i remember that like white people dont eat rice that often like sometimes they have meals that are just meat and vegetables and its like??? wheres the rice??? what are you doing??? your plate isnt complete???
As a little girl, I was told that one day I would fall in love and get married.
I was not told that sometimes the people I loved would not love me back and that it will feel difficult to walk down that aisle with the mountains of ashes I let people leave in my heart, but it will very easy to turn and run. So I did.
As a little girl, I was told that drugs weren’t cool and I should never touch them.
I was not told that one day I might hate myself so much that I’d poke holes in my veins in attempts to feel some sunshine inside of me.
As a little girl, I was told by my grandfather on his death bed that everyone’s time comes when they must go back to heaven.
I was not told that sometimes their time comes at 17 in their best friend’s car blaring their favourite song and heaven quits existing when the sound of colliding metal manifests in your dreams.
As a little girl, I was told to stay away from men in white vans offering me candy, because they were the bad guys that would hurt me.
I was not told to stay away from vibrant eyes and beautiful smiles offering me home in their arms, because good people can hurt you too.
As a little girl, I was told that I would bring home boys that my father didn’t approve of.
I was not told that I would want to bring home girls but I’d be too afraid my father wouldn’t approve.
As a little girl, I was told I may be pressured to do things he wants me to do and I should wait until I’m ready.
I was not told he wouldn’t care if I was ready and the word “no” isn’t always stronger than his hands cuffed around my wrists.
As a little girl, I was told not to be scared of the monsters under my bed, because they were really only in my head.
They were right about that, but I think I’m even more afraid now.
(trm) Little Girl (via acutelesbian)