There’s no point to a guy yelling, “Hey sexy baby” at me out of the passenger window of a car as it speeds past. Even if I was into creepy misogynists and wanted to give him my number, I couldn’t. The car didn’t even slow down. But that’s okay, because he wasn’t actually hitting on me. The point wasn’t to proposition me or chat me up. The only point was to remind me, and all women, that our bodies are his to stare at, assess, comment on, even touch. “Hey sexy baby” is the first part of a sentence that finishes, “this is your daily message from the patriarchy, reminding you that your body is public property”.My First Name Ain’t Baby: ‘Hey Baby’ and Street Harassment (via official-mens-frights-activist)
I am SO STRESSED OUT.
I have literally been doing 829 things at once and trying to perform well and direct others and market the show and assistant stage manage and schmooze industry contacts who are coming in to see the trials or later on for the run, and OMG, I’m eating terribly, and my throat hurts and I’m pretty sure I need to go to a foot doctor cause literally every single time I wear shoes at all, no matter how high quality or good fitting or even proper trainers, my feet are in agony after a couple of hours.
CAN SOMEONE JUST PUT EVERYTHING ELSE ON PAUSE LONG ENOUGH FOR ME TO DO LAUNDRY, MAKE AND EAT A GOOD HEARTY HEALTHY MEAL AND HAVE A FULL 8 HOUR SLEEPING SESSION?