burnside tv

I'm 24 but that doesn't make me a monster

tingycantwink — Fri, 19 Oct 2012 01:48:18 -0400

It is 2pm on a Sunday and I am 24 and I am being exactly the generational piece of shit I am supposed to be. Hungover, watching youthcentric cable television, some popped-yolk eggs floating in a stomach that just got back from brunch.

I bet you just got back from brunch. The lady in the dryer sheet commercial that somehow snuck in the center of a Jersey Shore rerun does not like me. She keeps her health insurance card in a smart Ann Taylor wallet. She buys her toilet paper in bulk after a long but satisfying day at work. She fluffs her lavender-scented laundry, a mountain of fitted shirts and henleys, and shakes her head at me. Heaven help me if I date her son. I am just another leech, a slug who can’t quite climb out of the suburban cocoon her parents worked so hard to keep her safe in. College degree? So WHAT, dryer lady snarks. You’re just going to make a JOINT of it before your parents give you RENT money.

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The Thing About My Vagina

tingycantwink — Thu, 06 Sep 2012 16:13:24 -0400

Yes, yes, and YES.

thefrenemy:

Really. Really?

It is 11pm and I am trying to do something productive, like watch The Golden Girls or find things to tweeze, and instead I have my head buried in my hands because some other politician has gone and said something about my vagina. He might call it The Bible Hole, The Shall-Not-Be-Named, or The Ladies Restroom at Saks Fifth Avenue and Other Places My Wife Won’t Let Me Go. I don’t know. I won’t ask. All I know is that he hates it so much and he still wants to tell it what to do. Essentially, he is a substitute teacher for a fourth grade class of remedial readers. They’re ruining my LIFE, he says, as he continues to read the New York Times unscathed.

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Our very own Miss Wahl looking mighty fine in a fairytale gown -...

tingycantwink — Thu, 30 Aug 2012 13:30:30 -0400

Our very own Miss Wahl looking mighty fine in a fairytale gown - can’t wait for her to rock some yoga pants as Kyla!

rabbit—hearted—girl:

Born Wicked by Jessica Spotswood (x)

“Blessed with a gift. Cursed with a secret.”

//++ tender: DEAR SELF, YOU DON'T SUCK.

tingycantwink — Sun, 12 Aug 2012 17:41:31 -0400

//++ tender: DEAR SELF, YOU DON'T SUCK.:

rainbowsonar:

I get this achiness in my brain that sometimes feels like a bunch of spider webs. A stiffness in my laughs that makes me wonder where my joy wandered off to. Like my heart is buried like toes in sand and I’m forgetting something.

Sometimes it comes after a long day or an emotionally…

we the dream catchers

tingycantwink — Wed, 25 Jul 2012 17:49:49 -0400

we the dream catchers:

the plight of storytellers!

tingycantwink:

We are dreamers, all of us. Some more so than others. Many limit dreaming to hours of the night, perched happily atop fluffy mattresses. And for the rest of us, the visions bleed our waking hours. Haunting us, taunting us back into their realms after we wake and while we walk. Even while we…

xo J

Ode to my Ladies

tingycantwink — Fri, 20 Apr 2012 04:50:00 -0400

Every Girl Needs a Girlfriend Who…

Never judges you. Even when you’re acting like a/an _____.

Accompanies you on the spontaneous, sloppy nights out.

Stays in with you, a bottle of red, and some serious guilt (aka amazing) food.

Cheers on your detox all week only to ruin it with you that weekend.

Doesn’t bat an eyelash when you eat all the food in her apartment.

Will gush/groan about any guy with you. At any hour.

Let’s you babble about the most uninteresting shit so you get it out of your system.

Picks you up so you don’t have to walk in the rain.

Highly (yet subtly) compliments you around someone you’re trying to impress.

Calms your existential crisis.

Supports your stupid and often short-lived obsessions.

And, listens to the worst of you, the side nobody else hears. Loves you nonetheless, knowing that underneath all the ugly bitch venting you really just need a hug.

“Feet, what do I need you for when I have wings to...

tingycantwink — Sat, 14 Apr 2012 22:21:04 -0400

“Feet, what do I need you for when I have wings to fly?”

FRIDA KAHLO

"The idea is to write it so that people hear it and it slides through the brain and goes straight to..."

tingycantwink — Sat, 10 Mar 2012 16:15:47 -0500

“The idea is to write it so that people hear it and it slides through the brain and goes straight to the heart.”

- Maya Angelou

An Adventure in Words and Photos

wahlflower — Sat, 10 Mar 2012 14:08:00 -0500

Seems too cool to just borrow from the library- this is coffee table book quality! Women Travelers: A Century of Trailblazing Adventures 1850-1950

-K

Why "Last Night" Is the Most Relatable Movie Ever

tingycantwink — Mon, 12 Dec 2011 14:39:00 -0500

You will relate to this film if you…

1. Have ever been cheated on.

2. Have ever cheated or been tempted to cheat.

3. Have ever been in love with someone who is in a relationship.

4. Have ever been in love with someone else while you’re in a relationship.

5. Have ever been the “Other Woman/Man”

6. Have ever loved two people at the same time.

7. Have ever forgiven someone for cheating on you.

8. Have ever lost someone you loved.

9. Have ever walked away from someone you love.

10. Have ever watched someone you love walk away from you.

So basically you need to see “Last Night” because if you are breathing, you will relate to it.

Female Directors and the Films We Love

wahlflower — Tue, 15 Nov 2011 20:36:00 -0500

Female Directors and the Films We Love:

An article from the Huffington Post, enjoy!

-K

Click here to read an interview with Merrill Markoe "Patron Saint of Women in TV Comedy Writing"

wahlflower — Fri, 04 Nov 2011 22:32:00 -0400

Click here to read an interview with Merrill Markoe "Patron Saint of Women in TV Comedy Writing":

-K

Top 5 Feminist TV Shows for Fall 2011

wahlflower — Wed, 19 Oct 2011 15:24:06 -0400

Top 5 Feminist TV Shows for Fall 2011:

Just a little something I stumbled upon…

(via ARIKO || works - Erna and Hrefna ‘09-‘10)

wellblessmystars — Fri, 09 Sep 2011 23:37:56 -0400

(via ARIKO || works - Erna and Hrefna ‘09-‘10)

what made/makes me strong

tingycantwink — Wed, 31 Aug 2011 14:12:25 -0400

Not expecting anyone to hold open any doors for me. Literally and metaphorically.
Trusting the right people.
Trusting the wrong people (and moving on).
My fiery mother.
My father who expects no less than he would of a son.
Learning how to grin and bear it.
Working minimum wage.
A loved one needing me.
Heart breaking, again.
Accepting that sometimes I take on too much, and letting others help me.
Talking with my best girl friends for hours and hours over drinks.
Fighting with my sister for years. Making up with her as adults.
Learning to be selfish sometimes.
Deciding not to be a victim.
Working towards my dream every day.

HSP: It's Not a Bad Thing

wahlflower — Tue, 23 Aug 2011 18:37:00 -0400

My eyes are extremely sensitive to light. My stomach is sensitive to dairy. My sense of smell is as sensitive as a bloodhound. That’s only the beginning.

Growing up I was saddened, angered, affected in any way by the smallest of things; before “I’m pms-ing” could even be an excuse. Jewel’s song “I’m Sensitive” was one of my favorite sing-a-longs in the late 1990s. And I’ll admit it: I can dish it, but sometimes I just can’t take it. I always thought my degree of sensitivity was something to “work on” or try and suppress when really it’s more of a gift I should embrace. Now… I’m not diagnosing myself… but I came across an interesting term that was coined in 1996: the Highly Sensitive Person. It’s great. It’s innate. Time to share a quote.
Recipient of the Pulitzer Prize (1932) and first American woman awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature (1938), Pearl S. Buck, once said:

The truly creative mind in any field is no more than this: A human creature born abnormally, inhumanly sensitive.
To him…
a touch is a blow, a sound is a noise,
a misfortune is a tragedy,
a joy is an ecstasy,
a friend is a lover,
a lover is a god,
and failure is death.
Add to this cruelly delicate organism the overpowering necessity to create, create, create —— so that without the creating of music or poetry or books or buildings or something of meaning, his very breath is cut off from him. He must create, must pour out creation. By some strange, unknown, inward urgency he is not really alive unless he is creating.”

This is a valid, positive trait and makes sense to anyone who is or knows a creative individual whether it be a musician, actor, painter, etc. Some of our favorite movies have highly sensitive characters and the audience is captivated by their unique yet relatable personalities. Nearly 20% of the population are HSP and as we all know… to every positive, there is a negative. Therapist Dr. Lisa A. Riley describes the downside:
“Creatives might find themselves more easily overwhelmed, and often live chaotic lives, affecting not only personal relationships, but also their own productivity. Over-stimulation can sometimes manifest further into anxiety or depression, bogging down their ability to cope with every day stressors or life’s challenges.”
An openness and sensitivity can lead to pain as well as joy, but hopefully some sort of balance can be found. The best way for a HSP to live a meaningful life? Create. Personally, I believe you cannot truly be happy if you’ve never felt pain and you cannot have a sense of victory unless you know what it means to fail. You get what I’m saying: it’s all worth it.

-K

LA City Girl Problems

tingycantwink — Fri, 19 Aug 2011 21:40:00 -0400

(I mean C’MONNNNN….)

Los Angeles can be really fun. There are also some mad powerful women here, and the next few years (see #10 below) promise to be fairly female-oriented content heavy (yay!). But…today I need to vent about some of my daily annoyances. Perhaps you can relate:

Stare at the serious LIST of Parking signs for 20 minutes and still get a ticket.
Wait till I have 0 miles to E on my gas tank, so I’m forced to stop at stupidly expensive Weho station. Fill up $2 worth which will get me down the street to a cheaper one.
Forget my eco-water-bottle before leaving the house and buy a beverage while I’m out. Or remember, but have to pee all day and buy something anyways just to use a semi-clean bathroom.
Get a book from the library, renew it three times, still return it late.
SPF: Wrinkles > or < Greasy skin/enlarged pores/parabens ?
Friend is texting me but I keep hitting green lights!
Live off the good old credit card. Cross my fingers that I can pay it every month. (Just kidding Mom, I’m a responsible adult…heh…)
Vintage stores know the value of a good find here, and price them accordingly. Lame.
Neighbors conveniently just don’t see their yippie little dog poop in my yard. You have your own yard, dude.
I can not NOT know about any movie/show/mini-series coming out this month or the actors in them, because their faces stare at me from billboards on Sunset, La Brea, Highland, Wilshire, or any other main street I may take to get N, S, E, or W.
GPSes lie and ignore rush hour. Add thirty minutes. Also taking the side roads the whole way — but mostly so I can listen to my iPod because my best speakers are in my car. Blame traffic when I arrive.
Dress for 115 degrees outside. Go to a restaurant and freeze.
Keep my passport in my wallet at all times because I like knowing I can jump on a plane and leave the country any second. Temporarily lose wallet, have minor heart attack.

She told us, “I don’t mind living in a man’s...

tingycantwink — Sat, 13 Aug 2011 14:19:11 -0400

She told us, “I don’t mind living in a man’s world, as long as I can be a woman in it.” Well, personally I mind living in “a man’s world” but I’ll be a woman in it either way.

Your Independent Mind, or Why You’re Here

tingycantwink — Tue, 09 Aug 2011 04:55:00 -0400

tingycantwink:

Sometimes I wake up at dawn because it feels so good to be alone. So peaceful. Laying flat against the bed, the open window allowing a fresh breeze to sweep through the hot, twisted sheets.

Try it sometime. Just lay and think about your life.

About your wants. About your needs. About expectations. The wants are the easiest to think about and feel the best. The yearning is the easiest to find. But needs and expectations are heavier, more concrete. They pile up slowly until, suddenly, they overtake your wants. Suddenly, your mind mistakes them for your wants. (Might even mistake others’ expectations for your wants too).

But early in the morning, before the world starts getting busy and distracting, everything is much clearer. Your thoughts are clearer because your day hasn’t started yet — easier to simmer those needs, to shush those expectations.

You haven’t opened your email to see what you neglected to take care of last night, or the amassing junk mail that needs to be deleted. That Post-It of To Dos still rests on the dresser. And the dishwasher waits to be emptied.

None of that matters in the early hours of the day, before everything begins.

Just lay there and listen — hear your heart hitting your ribcage, feel your hairs standing on end. In that moment you become so self-aware, all thoughts and fears and wants come crashing down and until you nearly burst in two.

Most days you lose those raw feelings. And you don’t even realize you lost them until you have them back. Like when you listen to a song from high school and maybe cry a little because you remember how full (or broken) your heart was when you first heard it. If you put enough distance between you and your feelings, you forget what you’re missing.

Let the rich feeling consume you, fill you, tear into you. Let it awaken you, and then let it pass. Only not pass away entirely, let it pass into a safe corner of your body. Nestle in gently and feed you for the rest of the day, or week, or longer hopefully. Like a little gem of magical energy until you need to have another confrontation with yourself to tell you what is real. To tell you what to hold onto, and what’s really important. I’m not sure if these stolen moments in the early morning are with my soul or with my mind, perhaps a combination of everything. My body too.

Everyone gets on your case about not be aware. Not being aware of what’s going on in the world — which I try to be, but more than that. Not being aware of this constant stream of information being thrown at you. Multiple streams charging at you, each crowded with thoughts and feelings that are not yours. Streams from every voice on the street, streams from every outlet of the media and pop culture — telling you what to know, what to retain, and, oftentimes, what to do. The endless facts that fill your brain until there is nothing left for yourself.

No. Just say no, now and then. As often as you like, really. Say NO to holding all of that bullshit, say no to overloading yourself with baggage that is not yours to hold in the first place. And listen to yourself. Listen to your wants. Only hold onto what makes you aware of the world in a stronger way, improving your independent mind.

And be aware of yourself, and all of those whispers in the morning that speak to you (from you). Those rising feelings that make your heart beat louder. Its reverberation in your ears and pulsing warmly in your fingertips. Like a waterfall starting from a single thought and spilling, pounding into every bit of you. Slightly painful but like a quiet thunder that feeds you and leaves you wanting more.

Listen to the storm, listen to yourself. Because those are the information streams that really matter, and those thoughts that cross your mind early in the morning when you’re alone and before everything has begun, those are the reasons you wake up every day and move forward.

Those are the reasons you are here.

JL

Happy Birthday, Lucy

tingycantwink — Sat, 06 Aug 2011 21:49:30 -0400

“One of the things I learned the hard way was that it doesn’t pay to get discouraged. Keeping busy and making optimism a way of life can restore your faith in yourself.”

- L.B.

My obsession with Lucille Ball began at age 10 when I came across I Love Lucy reruns on TV Land. I furiously watched every episode, and once I’d seen them all I repeated my favorites. My parents bought me all of those coffee table books about her life, which I proudly displayed in my room. A giant framed black and white print still hangs above my old bed.

Everyone knows Lucy is funny, nobody can NOT laugh when they watch her on screen. But more than that, she was true to herself. Bold yet delicate and real, lovely and brave. At a time when women had little to no power in Hollywood, she rose to the top of the system and took control of her career. Changing the face of television, she was not just another actress who could bat her lashes with good comedic timing. Lucy was a business woman and a studio executive, and paid her dues appearing in B movies and comedy shows before her I Love Lucy years. There is no easy way to the top, and she did not fall into her TV stardom by chance.

Lucille Ball taught me that I am in control of my own life. There are no limits, except those you make for yourself. Life gives back to you what you put into it. And you make your own luck.

Though she is no longer with us, today marks her 100th birthday. Happy Birthday, Lucy, and thank you for inspiring me.