Posted 7 months ago
Posted 7 months ago

Happiest of happy birthdays to @mindbarbarasoul!! One of the bravest, most honest, most lovely women I know!!

Posted 7 months ago




This is a really interesting point.

(Source: kristenschaals)

Posted 8 months ago

My pretty little girl is getting so big! #goddaughter #violet

Posted 8 months ago

When a conference speaker gives a hashtag to live-tweet their presentation… and then calls you out for using your phone (to live tweet the presentation)


Posted 8 months ago

Phil Hoffman and I had two things in common. We were both fathers of young children, and we were both recovering drug addicts. Of course I’d known Phil’s work for a long time — since his remarkably perfect film debut as a privileged, cowardly prep-school kid in Scent of a Woman — but I’d never met him until the first table read for Charlie Wilson’s War, in which he’d been cast as Gust Avrakotos, a working-class CIA agent who’d fallen out of favor with his Ivy League colleagues. A 180-degree turn.

On breaks during rehearsals, we would sometimes slip outside our soundstage on the Paramount lot and get to swapping stories. It’s not unusual to have these mini-AA meetings — people like us are the only ones to whom tales of insanity don’t sound insane. “Yeah, I used to do that.” I told him I felt lucky because I’m squeamish and can’t handle needles. He told me to stay squeamish. And he said this: “If one of us dies of an overdose, probably 10 people who were about to won’t.” He meant that our deaths would make news and maybe scare someone clean.

So it’s in that spirit that I’d like to say this: Phil Hoffman, this kind, decent, magnificent, thunderous actor, who was never outwardly “right” for any role but who completely dominated the real estate upon which every one of his characters walked, did not die from an overdose of heroin — he died from heroin. We should stop implying that if he’d just taken the proper amount then everything would have been fine.

He didn’t die because he was partying too hard or because he was depressed — he died because he was an addict on a day of the week with a y in it. He’ll have his well-earned legacy — his Willy Loman that belongs on the same shelf with Lee J. Cobb’s and Dustin Hoffman’s, his Jamie Tyrone, his Truman Capote and his Academy Award. Let’s add to that 10 people who were about to die who won’t now.

Aaron Sorkin's obituary for Philip Seymour Hoffman in Time (via popculturebrain)
Posted 8 months ago
I do not need someone to complete me
but if you wanted to
we could walk next to each other
into whatever is coming next.
Posted 8 months ago
Posted 9 months ago
Some new years resolutions twentysomethings can actually follow?
halestotheyeah asked



1. Wash your bedsheets.

2. Spend half as much time feeling sorry for yourself as you spend doing something about it. 

3. The word “twentysomething” describes your age. Stop using it as a crutch to drown in your limitations. The economy is shitty, healthcare is hard, and college loans are steeped. Still: you’re not a goddamn Time Magazine thinkpiece. You are a person who steers your own ship. Start being a captain.    

4. Maintain a savings account that you can survive on for 3 “i’m fucked” months.

5. Take a leap. If you don’t do something you’re scared of now, you’re wasting your mortality.  

6. Get back to doing some of the things you loved before all of that noise drowned it out. 

7. You are an adult. Learn to drink like one.

8. Be fucking nicer. 

9. Maintain your: friendships, fridge, and gmail folder

10. Stop underestimating yourself.

But, seriously, wash your sheets.

Number 4 is rough.

Posted 9 months ago
There are moments, when you’re getting to know someone, when you realize something deep and buried in you is deep and buried in them, too. It feels like meeting a stranger you’ve known your whole life.
Leah Raeder, Unteachable (via psychings)