I'm Julia. 31 and living in DC.
Nicknames from crazy people on the train, more museums than you can shake a stick at, and all my obsessions locked in by my earbuds during the morning commute...
Background Illustrations provided by: http://edison.rutgers.edu/
colinquinn:

Seth Menachem

We went to the party, and, as I figured, some of the guests laughed and made comments. One said to me, “Do you think this is funny? There are kids here. You want them to see this?” Another said, “You want him to be gay?”  

And I stayed calm. And I explained to them the best I could that there is no correlation between kids cross-dressing and being gay. And if he is gay, it’s not because of anything I did. It’s because he’s gay. And maybe it’s a stage. And maybe it’s not. But either way, I don’t want him to ever feel like he wasn’t able to express himself because his parents didn’t support him. And some understood. And some, trapped by religion or ignorance, gave us the stank face. 

Plenty of people are supportive. They’ll see my kids — Sydney with her long dirty blonde hair, and Asher with his short dark hair, and say, “I love your daughter’s pixie cut.” When I tell them he’s my son, they smile and say, “I love it.” They also apologize for confusing his gender, but I tell them, “Don’t apologize. He’s in a purple dress with sparkly shoes. How would you know?” I know there are parents who get worked up when you confuse their kids’ gender, but I’m not one of them.

I get home before my wife most nights, so I was taking the kids out to walk our dog. They were dressing up in different outfits, my daughter treating Asher like her doll, as she tried various dresses, shoes, and headbands on him. And then Sydney told me she wanted me to wear a dress, too — “Oh my god, it will be so funny.”

I said, “No,” but she kept begging. I said, “People will laugh at me.” She said, “If they do, I’ll tell them to go away.” And I couldn’t argue with that, as I squeezed myself into Carrie’s most flexible dress. We walked the dog on our block, and the pleasure my kids took in seeing their dad go out of his comfort zone trumped the humiliation I felt.

Carrie pulled up to the house, and I saw her slacked jaw from the end of the street. She laughed. She took a picture. And she told me I better not rip her dress. And then we all went for a pizza.


(My Son Wears Dresses And That’s OK With Me | Seth Menachem for xoJane)

colinquinn:

Seth Menachem

We went to the party, and, as I figured, some of the guests laughed and made comments. One said to me, “Do you think this is funny? There are kids here. You want them to see this?” Another said, “You want him to be gay?”  
And I stayed calm. And I explained to them the best I could that there is no correlation between kids cross-dressing and being gay. And if he is gay, it’s not because of anything I did. It’s because he’s gay. And maybe it’s a stage. And maybe it’s not. But either way, I don’t want him to ever feel like he wasn’t able to express himself because his parents didn’t support him. And some understood. And some, trapped by religion or ignorance, gave us the stank face. 
Plenty of people are supportive. They’ll see my kids — Sydney with her long dirty blonde hair, and Asher with his short dark hair, and say, “I love your daughter’s pixie cut.” When I tell them he’s my son, they smile and say, “I love it.” They also apologize for confusing his gender, but I tell them, “Don’t apologize. He’s in a purple dress with sparkly shoes. How would you know?” I know there are parents who get worked up when you confuse their kids’ gender, but I’m not one of them.
I get home before my wife most nights, so I was taking the kids out to walk our dog. They were dressing up in different outfits, my daughter treating Asher like her doll, as she tried various dresses, shoes, and headbands on him. And then Sydney told me she wanted me to wear a dress, too — “Oh my god, it will be so funny.”
I said, “No,” but she kept begging. I said, “People will laugh at me.” She said, “If they do, I’ll tell them to go away.” And I couldn’t argue with that, as I squeezed myself into Carrie’s most flexible dress. We walked the dog on our block, and the pleasure my kids took in seeing their dad go out of his comfort zone trumped the humiliation I felt.
Carrie pulled up to the house, and I saw her slacked jaw from the end of the street. She laughed. She took a picture. And she told me I better not rip her dress. And then we all went for a pizza.

redheadedmadness:

castleisaidlegs:

darladeville:

watchtheright:

iwasboredsohereiam:

takingshotswithjustinbieber:

freewriterandnaturelover:

eversolightly:

There is a place. Like no place on Earth. A land full of wonder, mystery, and danger!

The Last Bookstore
Los Angeles, California

This place is on my bucket list to visit.

this is the only place i buy books from anymore ((and im going there tomorrow i need some new trashy romance novels)))

cool fact: up on the second floor, 1 book only costs $1. and the amount of cool books up there is endlessssss. so if you have $5 to spend well lucky you

This place looks, like it smells sssoooo gggoooodd

Going.

Also going here!

Someone take me there and I’ll love you forever.

I’ve been there and they not only have books but little art and sewing/stitching classes and small art gallery thingies up on one of the higher floors.
Fun fact: the building used to be a bank and they have this actual vault that, if closed, will not open again and in the vault they keep all the crime novels and it’s super fucking rad