This work by Mikki Kendall is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Oh really now.
So do men call you a bitch or a n*gger bitch?
Do men put you on a pedestal because you’re a delicate flower or a delicate oriental lotus blossom?
Do men date you for your tits and ass or your spicy fiery chili pepper Latina tits and ass?
Do they brand you a whore or a me love time slut? Do the slurs thrown at you contain the weight of colonization, slavery, and cultural imperialism ON TOP of centuries-long patriarchal institutions? No? Is it always the first part of my questions? Then shut up.
just because you aren’t white doesn’t mean you don’t face the same struggles as everyone else. you seem to be a Democrat, and correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought democrats weren’t for the stereotyping of races? It’s true, Spanish girls have big butts. it’s in their genes (and their jeans). Black people were enslaved some 100-odd years ago. the truth is your race DOESN’T matter. so stop making it the biggest deal in the world. you aren’t the only races/women in the world who get called names, and maybe some women are branded as “sluts” or “whores” because they are. you are taking out some pent-up anger over something because you’re angry that maybe a white girl has the same problems as you and you don’t wanna face it? and in the wise words of Bill Cosby, the way to stop racism is to stop talking about it. stop making it a big deal that you aren’t white, because guess what, it isn’t! you and all your other self-victimized, dependent, irrational “women” are just crying out for attention. woman up! be independent and strong, stop victimizing yourselves!
Oh shut up. Grown folks are talking & you clearly don’t have a single clue.
I decided that you guys need to see me in all my Indian glory.
Okay so I’m really happy with the glass mixing bowls I purchased… It’s just… I can’t help but feel that this bowl is a bit unnecessary. I can’t even begin to fathom a situation in which I’d need to mix together a maximum of 37 millilitres of something.
I have like twenty of those in my house; I very seldom use them for cooking (sometimes I’ll throw a spice in there if it’s something that I need to add later in a recipe. It makes me feel all food networky) but mostly I use them for holding different colors of beads while beading; the curved sides make it super easy to pick up one bead at a time with the needle.
There’s also just the right size for one egg yolk.
They’re really good for making small amounts of glaze or melting just enough chocolate or caramel for a serving of ice cream.
- Me: How do people get to 18 and not know how wash clothes, how to conserve energy so your light bill isn't astronomical, not to use the dishwasher with 5 freaking dishes in it, which garbage bags to purchase and how often to empty it, not to put all your takeout boxes in the garbage bags because that takes up more space than necessary, how to cook something that isn't chef boyardee or poptarts or hotdogs & fries, how to hear when the toilet isn't working right, not to let water sit in the sink in open containers for days on end, not to put food in the sink if you don't have a garbage disposal, how to properly wash dishes, to replace your freaking sponges, that living on the ground floor next to the woods in the South means you'll have bugs in your backyard so close the fucking door unless you want a pest problem and don't go on the back porch unnecessarily? like...this is basic living. this is how to breathe 101
- Friend: I'ma say this in the nicest way I can. Everybody didn't grow up broke.
Frida Kahlo, in a letter to her lover, the photographer Nickolas Muray, expressing her disdain for the members of the art scene in Paris. Much of the letter is too salty to reproduce on a family blog such as this one; in other words, a good read!
Frida Kahlo, Paris, France letter to Nickolas Muray, New York, N.Y., 1939 Feb. 16. Nickolas Muray papers, Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution.
(via archivesofamericanart)
This blog has never purported to be family-friendly in the least, so I have transcribed more of the letter:
“They have nothing to eat in their houses because none of them work and they live as parasites of the bunch of rich bitches who admire their ‘genius’ of ‘artists’. Shit and shit is what they are. I never seen Diego or you wasting time on stupid gossip and ‘intellectual’ discussions. That’s why you are real men and not lousy ‘artists’…all these people—good for nothing—are the cause of all the Hitlers and Mussolinis.”
“I rather sit in the market of Toluca and sell tortillas, than have anything to do with these ‘artistic’ bitches of Paris.”
“I met Marchel Duchamp (a marvelous painter) who is the only one who has his feet on the earth, among all this bunch of coocoo lunatic sons of bitches of the surrealists.”
(via fuckyeahlatinamericanhistory)
YAAS HON-TEA!! MISS FRIEDA!!
(via blackfoxx)
GPOY
good movie even though its another nice white lady movie.
What movie is this from?
(Source: jall0w)
(Source: takeariskbeautiful)
I love that he says it with a smile on his face.
Truly not giving a fuck.
Today I Became A Citizen
After so many years, so many ups and downs, paper work, lines & appointments; today I was sworn in along with 1,200 + Northern California naturalized citizens. My family worked extremely hard for this day and so did the SF based organization that helped us along in our early days in this country.
I am so grateful and overwhelmed at this moment. My family left El Salvador in a time of extremely devastating civil war and this country did give us refuge and a lot of opportunity.
My life and journey has been unique yet, this moment was like no other I’ve ever had the privilege to experience. There were over 102 countries represented in that theater plaza and I felt such an intense happiness to look at the brown, black, beige, red, tan and everything in between faces looking back at me.
Today, while sitting in that plaza everything felt so gargantuan compared to me. I didn’t know how to contain all that I was feeling, relief & release of that overwhelming fear of deportation so many of us know, happiness, joy, pride and so many memories rushing through me. It was hard to contain and place a name to but when I turned to my left just as a person from India was standing to represent their country and I saw that smile and tears streaming I knew they understood. I let it out then. I smiled back, genuinely and the tears pushed through past all of the thoughts.
I know this is a privilege and it feels unreal. Looking at this picture, I know it really happened. Thank you to everyone who has supported me through all of these years and know that this is just one huge step for me toward what I work for and fight for every day.
All of you.
Siempre con cariño,
N.H.
