God, travel is tiring. Add a cold and your period and its downright exhausting. I’m enjoying Spain but I miss my bed. Wish I could apparate to Greensboro for some real R&R!
I love traveling but it always takes me a few days to commit 100%. My body is whining - swollen feet, empty stomach and zero energy. I really wish they’d hurry up with the whole teleportation thing, because I’d love to be in my own bed right now.
The idea of all our characters confronting their images and the reflections of themselves, in a moment in an episode of the sideways, was a visual metaphor. It’s like just on the other side our life, there’s another life. You see what you wish for or are scared of.
So you guys should totes follow me while I’m abroad
“Women aren’t raised in a culture that tells them they’re entitled to attention from men. We’re told instead that we have to earn it. And one reliable way of earning positive attention from men is to bash other women, especially women who speak out against sexism.”
“Excuse sexist behavior from men - get to be told you’re the exception. You’re not like those other girls, the bitchy ones. You’re special.”
Siddhartha wants liberation, Dante wants Beatrice, Frodo wants to get to Mount Doom—we all want something. Quest is elemental to the human experience. All road narratives are to some extent built on quest. If you’re a woman, though, this fundamental possibility of quest is denied. You can’t go anywhere if you can’t step out onto a road…
…(T)here is no female counterpart in our culture to Ishmael or Huck Finn. There is no Dean Moriarty, Sal, or even a Fuckhead. It sounds like a doctoral crisis, but it’s not. As a fifteen-year-old hitchhiker, my survival depended upon other people’s ability to envision a possible future for me. Without a Melvillean or Kerouacian framework, or at least some kind of narrative to spell out a potential beyond death, none of my resourcefulness or curiosity was recognizable, and therefore I was unrecognizable.