Itissanerdlol - Not Sure Yet Lol

I want to KISS the person who made this display, that is AMAZING

me, waking up in a cold sweat: selkie and swan maiden girlfriends

Please stop and listen to our painful story and help me save the family 🇵🇸🇵🇸

Help me get my father and mother out and secure their lives

The story of my father and mother who suffered from illness and lived under the wall of a tent

“The tent was their only shelter. Its winter wall was made of threadbare fabric that did not protect them from the cold or summer heat. Inside, they were lying on a thin mattress, two defeated bodies suffering from diabetes and high blood pressure. They woke up every day to the sound of chronic pain and dreams. That relaxes with every breath.

gofundme.com

Donate to Please Save What's Left of My Family, organized by Marleen Tipu

Hello my dears, I hope you are well. Please help me. I, Mahmoud Baalou, have gon… Marleen Tipu needs your support for Please Save What's

Spirit: Stallion of The Cimarron & the Indian Boarding Schools/Residential Schools allegory

Can't prove you wrong cause I do be queer

If your favourite barbie movie was Barbie and the Diamond Castle you’re queer now I don’t make the rules I’m just a perfect proof of that

so I got into grad school today with my shitty 2.8 gpa and the moral of the story is reblog those good luck posts for the love of god

SEASON 3 ANNOUNCEMENT??!

Opinion | What happened when an Orthodox Jewish congregation went to a gay bar to mourn Orlando

The Orlando attack fell during Shavuot, a joyous Jewish holiday.

When our synagogue heard about the horrific tragedy that took place at the Pulse nightclub in Orlando, it was at the same time that we were celebrating our festival of Shavuot, which celebrates God’s giving of the Torah.

As Orthodox Jews, we don’t travel or use the Internet on the Sabbath or on holidays, such as Shavuot. But on Sunday night, as we heard the news, I announced from the pulpit that as soon as the holiday ended at 9:17 p.m. Monday, we would travel from our synagogue in Northwest Washington to a gay bar as an act of solidarity.

We just wanted to share the message that we were all in tremendous pain and that our lives were not going on as normal. Even though the holiday is a joyous occasion, I felt tears in my eyes as I recited our sacred prayers.

I had not been to a bar in more than 20 years. And I had never been to a gay bar. Someone in the congregation told me about a bar called the Fireplace, so I announced that as our destination. Afterward, I found out it was predominantly frequented by gay African Americans.

Approximately a dozen of us, wearing our kippot, or yarmulkes, went down as soon as the holiday ended. Some of the members of our group are gay, but most are not. We did not know what to expect. As we gathered outside, we saw one large, drunk man talking loudly and wildly. I wondered whether we were in the right place. Then my mother, who was with me, went up to a man who was standing on the side of the building. She told him why we were there. He broke down in tears and told us his cousin was killed at Pulse. He embraced us and invited us into the Fireplace.

We didn’t know what to expect, but it turned out that we had so much in common. We met everyone in the bar. One of the patrons told me that his stepchildren were actually bar-mitzvahed in our congregation. Another one asked for my card so that his church could come and visit. The bartender shut off all of the music in the room, and the crowd became silent as we offered words of prayer and healing. My co-clergy Maharat Ruth Friedman shared a blessing related to the holiday of Shavuot, and she lit memorial candles on the bar ledge. Then everyone in the bar put their hands around each other’s shoulders, and we sang soulful tunes. After that, one of our congregants bought a round of beer for the whole bar.

Everyone in the bar embraced each other. It was powerful and moving and real and raw.

After that we moved to the outdoor makeshift memorial service at Dupont Circle. There, too, we did not know what to expect. But as we gathered around the circle, people kept coming up to us and embracing us. One man we met there told us that his daughter sometimes prays with us. Others were visiting from Los Angeles but joined in full voice, clearly knowing the Hebrew words to the song we were singing.

As we were singing, I looked over at some gay members of our congregation and saw tears flowing down their faces. I felt the reality that we are living in a time of enormous pain. But I also felt that the night was a tremendous learning experience for me. I learned that when a rabbi and members of an Orthodox synagogue walk into a gay African American bar, it is not the opening line of a joke but an opportunity to connect; it is an opportunity to break down barriers and come together as one; it is an opportunity to learn that if we are going to survive, we all need each other.

I don’t think this article got very much traction last year, but I wanted to share it again.

Jim Henson as the magician is amazing and really warmed my heart ❤️

cards 0-5 in my muppets major arcana

(edit: check out cards 6-13 here!)