I’m intensely curious about people. I crave details. I want to know what someone is carrying in their bags, what is on people’s grocery lists, what books people are reading, whether they like going on intense hiking expeditions. I want to build a place where we can just sit down and tell stories….
I took my girlfriend to an improv show the other night and during intermission we were passionately arguing over whether half a 5 Hour Energy shot would give you 2.5 hours of energy or 5 hours of half-assed energy so we turned around to ask the opinions of the three people behind us and one of them said “Are all your arguments like this because we heard you in the lobby earlier fighting over the right way to pronounce ‘egg’?”
Anecdotes by medical practitioners"A woman came in for a baby check with her 6-month-old and she had what looked like chocolate milk in the baby’s bottle. So he started explaining to her as kindly as he could that she shouldn’t be giving her baby chocolate milk. At which point she interrupts him and says, ‘Oh that isn’t chocolate milk. It’s coffee! He just loves it!”
"I had a patient come in for an STD check. She was very upset and continued to tell me that she only had one partner. Progressing through my assessment, she further divulged that even if he was sleeping with other people it shouldn’t matter ‘because he uses a condom every time and he makes sure to wash it thoroughly after every use’.”
"Had a lady who measured her baby’s temperature by pre-heating the oven and putting one hand in front of it while the other hand was on the baby’s forehead. She told the nurse her baby’s fever was about 250 degrees.”
"Lady has to have foot amputated and is given waiver forms to sign pre-op. Buddy asks if she needs time to think about it. She’s very nonchalant and doesn’t seem to care much what they do. He gets suspicious and probes a bit as to why she’s not more concerned. She says she gets that they have to operate and it’s OK because the foot will grow back.”
"I had a couple who had been trying to conceive for over two years. I asked all the usual questions, how often do you have sex, any previous pregnancy, etc etc. Something seemed off to me during the consult, so I continued to ask questions. Finally I asked if he ejaculated while inserted into the vagina. Both parties looked confused.Turns out the couple was not having insertional sex at all. I had to awkwardly explain to them how insertional sex works. Diagrams were required.”
"Patient comes in, she’s upset. She’s pregnant, and she doesn’t understand why. She’s on the pill. Upon talking to her at great length, I find out that she only takes the pills on the days that she is sexually active – no other time.”
"Patient comes in with her bf. They are indignant, as if somehow I could’ve prevented [the pregnancy]. The problem? Well, the pills were bothering the girl’s stomach, so, being a gallant bf, he decided to start taking them instead.”
“I was explaining the treatment to the husband of a patient about to be discharged. He kept nodding and agreeing with me, but I knew it was flying over his head. Turned out a fundamental problem was that I was describing the drugs as ‘tablets’ and he had no clue what those were.”This literallyastounds.
But we totally don’t need sexual education in this country.
Nope, abstinence is working just fine.
This is why we need comprehensive sexual education people. - Paige
I may always reblog every gifset/imageset I see of this scene, if only to point out (over and over and over again) that Black Widow’s “very specific skillset” is not, actually, ass-kicking (as amazing as she is at that), because all the Avengers can kick ass to a pretty high degree. The Black Widow’s superpower (as it were) is emotional manipulation.
She is not interrogating this man not while tied to a chair. She is tied to a chair because that is exactly where she wants to be, because apparent vulnerability on her part is part of her interrogation. She uses the exact same trick on Loki later, when she leads him into gloating over having successfully pushed her buttons (and I have a theory that he did actually push her buttons, that she was genuinely distressed by the things he said to her because Loki is old enough and smart enough to know when someone is lying to him) and turns his gloating around on him, uses it to dig into the cracks of him, because that is what she does, and she can do it even when her target is expecting it. (Really, Loki knows that’s why she’s there. He was expecting to be physically tortured first, and for her to come be sympathetic later, if you recall, but Loki and Widow both know that wouldn’t work.)
And this is why she’s so unsettled by the Hulk. The Black Widow relies on emotional manipulation — and the Hulk, to the best of her knowledge, only has varying shades of a single emotion: anger. She doesn’t know how to manipulate a creature if it doesn’t have all the hooks to emotions like pride and lust and guilt and greed that she’s used to using.
This is a REALLY good character analysis of Natasha.
when men started
calling me beautiful, i cut
off all my hair and let the
woman give it to someone
who deserved the title
i was raised in a home where people
walked around me as if i were a thin
sheet of glass. tip toes tips and
toes, they left me
believing that there were no such thing
they taught me to have faith in a god.
in myself. to believe in love and happiness
and everything that doesn’t break, but
nothing moves me anymore. not even
the memories. not even the soft hinges
of the past. i’m wearing my skin and it
clatters when i walk, and
no one prepared me for
You are not mine to think about, but I still do.
I think about the way your body might feel between my knees or my palms; the way your face might look as I hover over or under you; the way your skin might smell in the darkness of midnight or in the late afternoon sun. I think about your mouth pressed against my spine in the dark. I think about your eyes closing as I kiss you. I think about how kind and brutal your lips would be to every inch of my skin.
I think about the simple things, too. I think about Sunday morning breakfast, and reading poetry out loud on Saturday nights while drinking whiskey by a fire, or the way you might look on a cold walk to nowhere in the middle of a December afternoon. I think about afternoons by the ocean, your palm pressed against mine, and the way the sea salt would smell in your hair as we fell asleep that night.
One moment we are eating olives and cheese from deli containers in the middle of Central Park on an early May afternoon, laying stomach down on a thin red blanket, reading books and watching people compete to be as in love as we are and the next moment my fingers are learning the way your skull becomes your neck, becomes your back, becomes the tender skin on the back of your thighs.
You are not mine to think about, but I still do—still know the way I would hold your fingers against my lips, my ribs, my hips, my heart if I ever got the chance.