It’s a time-honored tradition at Navy homecomings – one lucky sailor is chosen to be first off the ship for the long-awaited kiss with a loved one.
Today, for the first time, the happily reunited couple was gay.
The dock landing ship Oak Hill has been gone for nearly three months, training with military allies in Central America.
As the homecoming drew near, the crew and ship’s family readiness group sold $1 raffle tickets for the first kiss. Petty Officer 2nd Class Marissa Gaeta bought 50 - which is actually fewer than many people buy, she said, so she was surprised Monday to find out she’d won.
Her girlfriend of two years, Petty Officer 3rd Class Citlalic Snell, was waiting when she crossed the brow.
They kissed. The crowd cheered. And with that, another vestige of the policy that forced gays to serve in secrecy vanished.
By Corinne Reilly
© December 21, 2011
I don’t know if I’m late to this party, but the Tumblrverse needs a load of this one: a child was recently removed from his home, taken from his mother, and put into foster care because of his “severe obesity.” Cuyahoga County (where Cleveland, Ohio is) decided to remove the child because his mother “wasn’t doing enough to control his weight.” This is despite her having another child who is skinny—apparently, feeding two people in the same way and getting two different weight results does not prove anything. Furthermore, when the first foster mother was unable to fulfill the diet and exercise requirements required by the county, they moved the child to another home with a personal trainer. The whirlwind of unreasonable things going on in this case is overwhelming. The mother was successful with temporary weight loss, but her son gained it back, just like, you know, 95% of dieters who AREN’T kids with siblings who sneak them cookies. The mother was clearly not stuffing her child full of cheese curls and donuts, but since the medical community knows that constant willful eating of junk food is the only possible way in the entire universe to be overweight, and that there are no other factors whatsoever within the realm of possibility in this or any other dimension that could contribute to obesity, well, obviously this was an abusive neglectful parent. I am consumed with hyperbolic outrage.
The child himself was an honor roll student—gee, I wonder how long that will last now that he’s separated from his family and in foster care?
This is actually so legit.
It’s so stupid how people actually think that a woman’s period would make her completely irrational so that she cannot be in a position of power.
Tina Fey and
Amy PoehlrJane Krakowski are so good at funny feminist commentary.
LOL I love these.
This is my body (over there—see it?). I have lived in this body my whole life. I have wanted to change this body my whole life. I have never wanted anything as much as I have wanted a new body. I am aware every day that other people find my body disgusting. I always thought that some day—when I finally stop failing—I will become smaller, and when I become smaller literally everything will get better (I’ve heard It Gets Better)! My life can begin! I will get the clothes that I want, the job that I want, the love that I want. It will be great! Think how great it will be to buy some pants or whatever at J. Crew. Oh, man. Pants. Instead, my body stays the same.
There is not a fat person on earth who hasn’t lived this way. Clearly this is a TERRIBLE WAY TO EXIST. Also, strangely enough, it did not cause me to become thin. So I do not believe any of it anymore, because fuck it very much.
This is my body. It is MINE. I am not ashamed of it in any way. In fact, I love everything about it. Men find it attractive. Clothes look awesome on it. My brain rides around in it all day and comes up with funny jokes. Also, I don’t have to justify its awesomeness/attractiveness/healthiness/usefulness to anyone, because it is MINE. Not yours.
I’m not going to spend a bunch of time blogging about fat acceptance here (but please read this), because other writers have already done it much more eloquently, thoroughly, and radically than I ever could. But I do feel obligated to try to explain what this all means.
You asked me for links, Dan, so here are some links for you. There are plenty more, but if you want me to go through each one and explain to you how these words and implications hurt and shame people, you’re going to have to pay me overtime (in Doritos!!!!!). I get that you think you’re actually helping people and society by contributing to the fucking Alp of shame that crushes every fat person every day of their lives—the same shame that makes it a radical act for me to post a picture of my body and tell you how much it weighs. But you’re not helping. Shame doesn’t work. Diets don’t work. Shame is a tool of oppression, not change.
Fat people already are ashamed. It’s taken care of. No further manpower needed on the shame front, thx. I am not concerned with whether or not fat people can change their bodies through self-discipline and “choices.” Pretty much all of them have tried already. A couple of them have succeeded. Whatever. My question is, what if they try and try and try and still fail? What if they are still fat? What if they are fat forever? What do you do with them then? Do you really want millions of teenage girls to feel like they’re trapped in unsightly lard prisons that are ruining their lives, and on top of that it’s because of their own moral failure, and on top of that they are ruining America with the terribly expensive diabetes that they don’t even have yet? You know what’s shameful? A complete lack of empathy.
And if you really claim to still be confused—”Nu uh! I never said anything u guyz srsly!”—there can be no misunderstanding shit like this:
I am thoroughly annoyed at having my tame statements of fact—being heavy is a health risk; rolls of exposed flesh are unsightly—characterized as “hate speech.”
1. “Rolls of exposed flesh are unsightly” is in no way a “tame statement of fact.” It is not a fact at all—it is an incredibly cruel, subjective opinion that reinforces destructive, paternalistic, oppressive beauty ideals. I am not unsightly. No one deserves to be told that they’re unsightly. But this is what’s behind this entire thing—it’s not about “health,” it’s about “eeeewwwww.” You think fat people are icky. Eeeewww, a fat person might touch you on a plane. With their fat! Eeeeewww! Coincidentally, that’s the same feeling that drives anti-gay bigots, no matter what excuses they drum up about “family values” and, yes, “health.” It’s all “eeeewwwww.” And sorry, I reject your eeeeeewwww.
2. You are not concerned about my health. Because if you were concerned about my health, you would also be concerned about mymental health, which has spent the past 28 years being slowly eroded by statements like the above. Also, you don’t know anything about my health. You do happen to be the boss of me, but you are not the doctor of me. You have no idea what I eat, how much I exercise, what my blood pressure is, or whether or not I’m going to get diabetes. Not that any of that matters, because it is entirely none of your business.
3. “But but but my insurance premiums!!!” Bullshit. You live in a society with other people. I don’t have kids, but I pay taxes that fund schools. The idea that we can somehow escape affecting each other is deeply conservative. Barbarous, even. Is that really what you’re going for? Good old-fashioned American individualism? Please.
4. But most importantly: I reject this entire framework. I don’t give a shit what causes anyone’s fatness. It’s irrelevant and it’s none of my business. I am not making excuses, because I have nothing to excuse. I reject the notion that thinness is the goal, that thin = better—that I am an unfinished thing and that my life can really start when I lose weight. That then I will be a real person and have finally succeeded as a woman. I am not going to waste another second of my life thinking about this. I don’t want to have another fucking conversation with another fucking woman about what she’s eating or not eating or regrets eating or pretends to not regret eating to mask the regret. OOPS I JUST YAWNED TO DEATH.
If you really want change to happen, if you really want to “help” fat people, you need to understand that shaming an already-shamed population is, well, shameful. Do you know what happened as soon as I rejected all this shit and fell in unconditional luuuuurve with my entire body? I started losing weight. Immediately. WELL LA DEE FUCKING DA.
saw this elsewhere. shluv <3
Okay, I just want to say something, because a lot of people are reblogging this like a joke. As a person who has had an eating disorder while fat, I can GUARANTEE you that people treat you differently than a skinny person with an eating disorder. People encouraged me to keep going with my disordered behaviors, because they saw it as “such a good thing” that I was “losing all that bad weight.” This included doctors who sent me on my way despite my grandmother getting in their asses. I went through 4 doctors before whittling myself down. Many of my concerns were ignored despite having CLEAR signs of an eating disorder, because in reality, we don’t give a fuck about how fat people lose weight, as long as they lose it and stop being visible.
But that’s just concern for your health! Even if it fucks you up or kills you.
What’s truly amazing to me is how SO many people continually try to pour sparkles on the utter bullshit of their ‘concern’ or pin rainbows all over it. Then they try to convince you it’s sincere / doesn’t stink.
Trigger warning for frank description of disordered behaviours.
As another fat person who is in recovery from an eating disorder, I can attest to this. I was well practiced in starvation, purging and laxative/other substance abuse for over 20 years with my eating disorder, yet no matter what I did or said to most health care professionals, not to mention anyone else in my life, it was assumed I was a binge eater or an over-eater, simply because I am very fat.
In fact, several doctors told me it would “do me good” to restrict more, or simply encouraged my disordered behaviour no matter what damage it was doing to my body (my teeth are fucked from puking, I have IBS from all the laxatives and diet pills and my metabolism is completely screwed) and my health along the way.
Reblogging for commentary. EDs are only tragic when they occur in thin people.
Yep. I don’t even bother to tell doctors anymore. And I worry so much about my teeth…
“Mommy, they are just like me.”
My oldest son is six years old and in love for the first time. He is in love with Blaine from Glee.
For those who don’t know Blaine is a boy…a gay boy, the boyfriend of one of the main characters, Kurt.
This isn’t a ‘he thinks Blaine is really cool’ kind of love. It is a mooning at a picture of Blaine’s face for a half hour followed by a wistful “He’s so pretty” kind of love.
He loves the episode where two boys kiss. My son will call people in from other parts of the house to make sure they don’t miss his ‘favorite part.’ He’s been known to rewind it and watch it over again…and force other to, as well, if he doesn’t think people have been paying enough attention.
This infatuation doesn’t bother me or his father. We live in a very hip-liberal neighborhood, many of our friends are gay, and idea of having a gay son isn’t something that bothers either of us. Our son is going to be who he is, and it is our job to love him. End of story.
He is also six. Six year olds get obsessed with all kinds of things. This might not mean anything at all. We always joke that he’s either gay, or we have the best blackmail material in the history of mankind when he’s a 16 year old straight boy. (Take that naked bath time pictures!)
Then the other day we were traveling across the state listening to the Warblers album (of course), and in the middle of Candles, my son pipes up from the back seat.
“Mommy, Kurt and Blaine are boyfriends.”
“Yes, they are,” I affirm.
“They don’t like kissing girls. They just kiss boys.”
“Mommy, they are just like me.”
“That’s great, baby. You know I love you no matter what?”
“I know…” I could hear him rolling his eyes at me.
When we got home I recapped this conversation to his Dad, and we stood simply looking into each other’s eyes for a moment. Then we smiled.
“So if at 16 he wants to make a big announcement at the dinner table, we can say ‘You told us when you were six. Pass the carrots’ and he’ll be disappointed we stole his big dramatic moment,” my husband says with a laugh and hugs me.
Only time will tell if my son is gay, but if he is I am glad he’s mine. I am glad he has been born into our family. A family full of people who will love and accept him. People who will never want him to change. With parents who will look forward to dancing at his wedding.
And I have to admit, Blaine would be a really cute son-in-law.
Actually shed a tear.
Apparently, Lady Gaga’s fans got their noses bent out of joint when Adele took more VMA nominations. So, they did the mature, unprejudiced thing and made fun of Adele’s weight on Twitter.
Oh, wait, I forgot, making fun of fat people isn’t bias!
I hope that Lady Gaga comes out and tells her fans that this is crap. I do admire what she’s done in the gay community; she needs to put her fans in their place.
|—||Charles Bukowski (via rainier)|