Secretly, Korra also felt relieved to have found someone who could be just as intense as her, having constantly been criticized for this trait in the past; she had never had anyone in her life who got her the way Asami did.
(2/2) “Mom tried her best to pay for flight school, but we kept running out of money. I’d have to drop out for a few weeks, and since flying involves so much muscle memory, it would take me a while to get back on track. So one day I bought a stack of magazines and newspapers. I went through every page and cut out the advertisements. Then I opened my pantry and wrote down every brand I could find. I sent all of them letters, asking for help. Almost everyone said ‘no.’ But I did receive an amount from a grocery store called Pick-n-Pay. And Breitling sent me a brand new watch to raffle. That was a huge break. I sold six hundred raffle tickets. Things were going so well. African Pilot Magazine promoted the raffle for free. A man from Australia bought 100 tickets. But then I got a letter from the Lottery Board ordering me to end my raffle. They said it was illegal. I tried to explain that I was raising money for my education, but they didn’t care. I was so disappointed. I’d have to sit out another year of flight school. But when I called everyone to explain the situation, nobody would accept their money back. They told me to keep it! It was enough to keep me in the air for months. Then around Christmas that year, one of my mentors invited me to eat lunch at the airport. When I stepped out of the car, everyone who had ever helped me was there. They all started clapping. And somebody handed me the phone. A person on the other end said: ‘You’re live on 94.7, and we’re going to pay for your entire education!’ That was nearly four years ago. I just got my license last week. My plan is to fly for South African Airlines, but first I want to do some teaching. I want to visit schools in black neighborhoods. I want all the kids to see what an African female pilot looks like.” (Johannesburg, South Africa)
more dnd campaigns with overtly fantastic plots. full on fairy tale bullshit. like something out of mythology or a fable.
the party is tasked to retrieve the moon, which has been stolen from the sky. 87% chance the moon is also sentient.
a color that was locked away by the gods for being too beautiful/terrible/powerful is released again and a dragon of that color now threatens the land. also because it’s new it’s in fashion and everyone who can get their hands on it is wearing this color and it’s starting to give you a headache.
relieve the land of their drought by finding what happened to the rain and bringing it back.
What gets me is that after the dog realized they were kinda scared, he/she lied down so the cows could be in control and feel safer. Such love. Animals are amazing.
You can see that realization at the 8-second mark.
I’m telling you elephants are chill motherfuckers. They fucking love being helpful. They once defended a man with heatstroke from a truck that came to rescue him. They knew he was sick, laying against a tree for shade. They were watching over him and petting him, and they threatened to charge the vehicle for coming towards him. Another person passed out, and elephants cried over her and buried her body in a traditional elephant funeral. (Piling branches on her). And were quite spooked when she got up later.
And an elephant was helping workers to put logs in holes for a wall. On one hole, the elephant absolutely refused to set the log in, despite being punished and goaded. Turns out there was a sleeping dog in the hole.
There are so many good elephants stories. They will even help zookeepers wash other elephants– literally, a zookeeper can be like “[Name 1], please wash [Name 2]” and he will go wash that elephant correctly.
Listen guys. Not only are elephants people, but they’re largely better people than us. I’m 10000% serious.
i saw this post earlier about therapists and it reminded me of my old therapist paul, who in my opinion is one of the greatest men alive and who did not put up with my bullshit for even one second
anyway i go in to see paul one week in the summer of 2016, and i’m doing my usual bullshit which consists of me talking shit about myself, and paul is staring at me, and then he cuts me off and says that he’s got a new tool for helping people recognize when they’re using negative language, and gets up and goes over to his desk
and i’m like alright hit me with that sweet sweet self-help article my man, because i’m a linguistic learner and whenever paul’s like here i have a tool for you to use it’s pretty much always an article or a book or something
paul opens a drawer, takes something out, and turns back around. i stare.
i say, paul.
is that a nerf gun.
yeah, says paul.
i say, are you gonna shoot me with a nerf gun in this professional setting.
he happily informs me that that’s really up to me, isn’t it. and sits back down. and gestures, like, go ahead, what were you saying?
and i squint suspiciously and start back up about how i’m having too much anxiety to leave the house to run errands, like it was a miracle to even get here, like i’ve forgone getting groceries for the past week and that’s so stupid, what a stupid issue, i’m an idiot, how could i–
a foam dart hits me in the leg.
i go, hey! because my therapist just shot me in the leg. paul blinks at me placidly and raises an eyebrow. i squint again.
i say, slowly, it’s– not a stupid issue, i’m not stupid, but it’s frustrating me and i don’t want it to be a problem i’m having.
no dart this time. okay. sweet.
so the rest of the hour passes with me intermittently getting nailed with tiny foam darts and then swearing and then fixing my language and, wouldn’t you know it, i start liking myself a little more by the end of the session, which is mildly infuriating because paul can tell and he’s very smug about it
anyway i leave his office and the lady having the next appointment walks in and i hear what’s all over the floor? and paul very seriously says cognitive behavioral therapy tools.
i'll apple your turnover 