Mom In Mudville. All Day. Every Day.
retrogasm:

Snoopy throwing back a few root beers…

retrogasm:

Snoopy throwing back a few root beers…

highwaygone:

It’s just too fun NOT to share…!

highwaygone:

It’s just too fun NOT to share…!

megachum:

tittily:

my favorite thing about england is that the word pulp doesnt exist 

THIS IS WHAT IM TALKIN ABOUT

megachum:

tittily:

my favorite thing about england is that the word pulp doesnt exist 

THIS IS WHAT IM TALKIN ABOUT

Lol…

Lol…

portraitsofboston:

     “When I was younger, I believed that I was my own person, free to shape my character and do whatever I wanted to do. Recently, though, I’ve been thinking a lot about how I’m more a composite of my parents, who are so different from each other that I wonder how they could have ever been together. I know them well enough to see their shortcomings. The older I get, the more I realize that the things they struggled with I struggle with now, and have been my whole life—I just never knew it.     “On one hand, it’s a really depressing idea that you are doomed to be your mom and dad. On the other hand, I think that while I’ve inherited those struggles, I’m probably more able to overcome them than my parents were. It’s like a vaccine: it gives you just enough of the virus so your body can resist it. I got their shortcomings, but just enough that I can overcome them if I am determined. Still, it’s a difficult thing to do.”     “Which feeling prevails: hope or inevitability?”     “I tend to be an optimist, so I think that I can overcome my parents’ challenges. But maybe that’s not true. Maybe I’m doomed. Maybe that’s just how the world works: we’re doomed to live our parents’ lives over and over again, from generation to generation.”     “You said they were very different from each other.”     “Yes, my mom was a single parent and always worked but remained poor. My father graduated from Harvard, and he’s been quite successful. Everybody thinks that I’m trying to be like him—I also graduated from Harvard. For most of my life, I’ve wanted to live up to the ideals that my father created, to prove that I have it in me even though I grew up in more modest circumstances. So I chased after certain things, but now I think, ‘What am I doing? These things aren’t even truly valuable.’I realize now that what my mother gave me was much more valuable.     “I’ve only recently—in the past five years or so—had a relationship with my father. I moved here to take care of him when he was diagnosed with Stage IV cancer. That’s how I got to know him: those noble, virtuous qualities that I associated with my father weren’t there, replaced instead by underhanded, manipulative, cowardly characteristics. The more I get to know him, the more I realize that I’m thankful that my mother raised me. He’s one of the worst people I know—I don’t want to be like him at all.     “At the same time, I also wonder how it makes me look to think such things about a man who has accomplished so much.I feel strongly, yet I’m very reluctant to talk about it. My dad is very sensitive, and if this dialogue becomes public I know that he will be hurt to realize that I didn’t blindly worship him. Even though I have my issues with my dad, I still want to protect him.”     “You haven’t spoken very harshly of him—I don’t think that you hate him.”     “Well, to go back to the beginning, I’m a composite, so I can’t hate him without hating myself. In a way, I see myself in him. That’s what makes it so complicated and confusing: I identify with his undesirable aspects. I have to embrace and work on them because they’re in me, too. The same is true of my mom: she was super loving and giving, but she was also a drunk and a drug addict. I play up the love, because that’s desirable and allows me to embrace the idea of her.     “I want to protect my parents because their qualities are a part of me. They are seriously flawed human beings in very different ways, so I have no clear role model to follow: no one to ask for advice, no compass. I feel that I’m at a crossroads, but I don’t know what I should be pursuing. That’s what dominates my life right now: what’s valuable? What’s right? I’ve had this hodgepodge of life, and now I’m confused.”

portraitsofboston:

     “When I was younger, I believed that I was my own person, free to shape my character and do whatever I wanted to do. Recently, though, I’ve been thinking a lot about how I’m more a composite of my parents, who are so different from each other that I wonder how they could have ever been together. I know them well enough to see their shortcomings. The older I get, the more I realize that the things they struggled with I struggle with now, and have been my whole life—I just never knew it.
     “On one hand, it’s a really depressing idea that you are doomed to be your mom and dad. On the other hand, I think that while I’ve inherited those struggles, I’m probably more able to overcome them than my parents were. It’s like a vaccine: it gives you just enough of the virus so your body can resist it. I got their shortcomings, but just enough that I can overcome them if I am determined. Still, it’s a difficult thing to do.”
     “Which feeling prevails: hope or inevitability?”
     “I tend to be an optimist, so I think that I can overcome my parents’ challenges. But maybe that’s not true. Maybe I’m doomed. Maybe that’s just how the world works: we’re doomed to live our parents’ lives over and over again, from generation to generation.”
     “You said they were very different from each other.”
     “Yes, my mom was a single parent and always worked but remained poor. My father graduated from Harvard, and he’s been quite successful. Everybody thinks that I’m trying to be like him—I also graduated from Harvard. For most of my life, I’ve wanted to live up to the ideals that my father created, to prove that I have it in me even though I grew up in more modest circumstances. So I chased after certain things, but now I think, ‘What am I doing? These things aren’t even truly valuable.’I realize now that what my mother gave me was much more valuable.
     “I’ve only recently—in the past five years or so—had a relationship with my father. I moved here to take care of him when he was diagnosed with Stage IV cancer. That’s how I got to know him: those noble, virtuous qualities that I associated with my father weren’t there, replaced instead by underhanded, manipulative, cowardly characteristics. The more I get to know him, the more I realize that I’m thankful that my mother raised me. He’s one of the worst people I know—I don’t want to be like him at all.
     “At the same time, I also wonder how it makes me look to think such things about a man who has accomplished so much.I feel strongly, yet I’m very reluctant to talk about it. My dad is very sensitive, and if this dialogue becomes public I know that he will be hurt to realize that I didn’t blindly worship him. Even though I have my issues with my dad, I still want to protect him.”
     “You haven’t spoken very harshly of him—I don’t think that you hate him.”
     “Well, to go back to the beginning, I’m a composite, so I can’t hate him without hating myself. In a way, I see myself in him. That’s what makes it so complicated and confusing: I identify with his undesirable aspects. I have to embrace and work on them because they’re in me, too. The same is true of my mom: she was super loving and giving, but she was also a drunk and a drug addict. I play up the love, because that’s desirable and allows me to embrace the idea of her.
     “I want to protect my parents because their qualities are a part of me. They are seriously flawed human beings in very different ways, so I have no clear role model to follow: no one to ask for advice, no compass. I feel that I’m at a crossroads, but I don’t know what I should be pursuing. That’s what dominates my life right now: what’s valuable? What’s right? I’ve had this hodgepodge of life, and now I’m confused.”

alaskaroths:

Pretty sunset and panoramas are a good mix.

alaskaroths:

Pretty sunset and panoramas are a good mix.

bostonianresolution:

Not everyone you lose is a loss.

bostonianresolution:

Not everyone you lose is a loss.

Adulthood isn’t an award they’ll give you for being a good child. You can waste… years, trying to get someone to give that respect to you, as though it were a sort of promotion or raise in pay. If only you do enough, if only you are good enough. No. You have to just… take it. Give it to yourself, I suppose. Say, I’m sorry you feel like that and walk away. But that’s hard.
Lois McMaster Bujold, A Civil Campaign (via nanoishuge)