Sent the (hopefully) final revisions to my advisor 24 hours before my deadline.
I have worked on it so much that I can’t even talk about it anymore…and I’m starting to wonder who cares and why my topic is even important.
And now, on to my presentation from my preliminary exam.
Anonymous asked: Yay, Cécile is home!!! I am crying because my late mother would totally have done what you did & she would admire you for it.
Oh, don’t make me cry! Oh I am so humbled to be mentioned in the same breath. Let’s send some good mama vibes to yours. Thank you so much.
We do not have a lot of money. Hell, mini’s dad barely pays child support.
But what I do know?
Is well, fuck the 1%. And fuck anyone who thinks they deserve everything, even if they don’t even have to work for it or even try.
That woman hates me. And well she should since I don’t look or act or do anything like her. There she is in her fancy black dress and sensible black pumps and white pearls and here I am in my ridic hair and unshaven body and hippie dress and leggings and combat boots. And you know what?
But I have nothing to hide. And she is stuffed inside her spanx and won’t eat so she doesn’t turn into Veruca Salt at the event and her husband with his greasy mustache is passed out in the couch because he had 18 glasses of scotch.
Lady? No amount of dimes will ever make me want your life, your wealth, your whatever the fuck you got going on. And yeah, I am one of 3 WoC in this room and I know it and I probably scare the shit out of you, and you should be.
Because the rest of us will not save you when the zombie apocalypse comes and you can’t even run anyway. But thank gawd you have a house the size of a castle and all that shit inside. After the zombies take you, the rest of us can live there and take shelter while we live real life and fight to survive.
Reblogging because this is pretty much my survival plan in case of zombies. I even have a great house staked out nearby that is on high ground and has solar panels.