Pink Letter

Ramblings of a bored twenty-something.

I was going to go out barhopping and have a social life.

Instead I stayed home with a bottle of wine and doctor who. 

Chris Evans Ice Bucket Challenge (x)

I LOVED this. Bearded Chris Evans with a tux is everything.

(Source: luvindowney, via luvindowney)

unhistorical:

Interviewer: But the question is more, how do you get there? Do you get there by confrontation, violence?

Davis: Oh, is that the question you were asking? Yeah see, that’s another thing. When you talk about a revolution, most people think violence, without realizing that the real content of any revolutionary thrust lies in the principles and the goals that you’re striving for, not in the way you reach them. On the other hand, because of the way this society’s organized, because of the violence that exists on the surface everywhere, you have to expect that there are going to be such explosions. You have to expect things like that as reactions. If you are a black person and live in the black community all your life and walk out on the street everyday seeing white policemen surrounding you… when I was living in Los Angeles, for instance, long before the situation in L.A ever occurred, I was constantly stopped. No, the police didn’t know who I was. But I was a black women and I had a natural and they, I suppose thought I might be “militant.”

And when you live under a situation like that constantly, and then you ask me, you know, whether I approve of violence. I mean, that just doesn’t make any sense at all. Whether I approve of guns.

I grew up in Birmingham, Alabama. Some very, very good friends of mine were killed by bombs, bombs that were planted by racists. I remember, from the time I was very small, I remember the sounds of bombs exploding across the street. Our house shaking. I remember my father having to have guns at his disposal at all times, because of the fact that, at any moment, we might expect to be attacked. The man who was, at that time, in complete control of the city government, his name was Bull Connor, would often get on the radio and make statements like, “Niggers have moved into a white neighborhood. We better expect some bloodshed tonight.” And sure enough, there would be bloodshed. After the four young girls who lived, one of them lived next door to me…I was very good friends with the sister of another one. My sister was very good friends with all three of them. My mother taught one of them in her class. My mother—in fact, when the bombing occurred, one of the mothers of one of the young girls called my mother and said, “Can you take me down to the church to pick up Carol? We heard about the bombing and I don’t have my car.” And they went down and what did they find? They found limbs and heads strewn all over the place. And then, after that, in my neighborhood, all the men organized themselves into an armed patrol. They had to take their guns and patrol our community every night because they did not want that to happen again.

Angela Davis on violence and revolution (1972)

(via catscoffeeandmisanthropy)

I have to get better about updating this thing…

I ran a half marathon this Sunday! I’d been training since May for it and I managed to sprain my ankle during the training. I took time off to try and heal it but never enough for it to get better.

So now that its over, I’ll actually sit back and heal this thing. Hopefully it heals well and I can get back to it.

The race itself should have been easy because it was mostly downhill and flat but the weather was HORRENDOUS. 80 degrees and 75% humidity. The worst. But I finished and got my medal.

Running is a big stress reliever for me and while completing the half makes me feel really proud of myself it does take up a lot of time. I’m a slow runner and not an early riser so my evenings get taken up by running my neighborhood.

Plus in the last few weeks I was stricter with diet and drinking (not even a glass of wine) so I’m ready to take it easy.