wanna be a baker

I'm a 26 year old biologist trying to figure out my life while enjoying my love of food and science. I'm a certified diver, a runner and a traveller. I have run 3 5ks and 4 half marathons.

PR
5k: 28:21

HM: 2:24:02

I quit my Chemist job in 2012 to travel and teach in Asia. I'm now home and working.

Someday I'll have my dream job.

amordelfriki:

prokopetz:

prokopetz:

Rape is the only crime on the books for which arguing that the temptation to commit it was too clear and obvious to resist is treated as a defence. For every other crime, we call that a confession.

I’ve gotten more angry asks about this post than I have actual reblogs.

I literally put my coffee down, stared at the screen and said “Holy shit…”

(via honestyisararity)

Charlie got neutered today! This is him waiting to go inside.

Everyday is a struggle

3.5 weeks now of being “injured”.

Sitting and standing up is very difficult and painful. Today I woke up lopsided and it has gotten worse as the day progressed. I’m back on muscle relaxers. Physical therapy is the next step.

On top of this, my vitamin D levels are at 22. Normal levels range from 30-100. I’m on prescription vitamin D. What?! So is my mom though.

It’s been an emotional and draining few weeks.

My weekend started out really rough actually. I’ve been having some issues, emotionally. I’ve been injured since January but very seriously the past 3 weeks. After my initial doctor visit where I was only prescribed strong pain killers and muscle relaxers, both of which I somehow made last 2 weeks. I finally saw the doctor on Friday where I expected to get a referral for a MRI. Unfortunately that didn’t happen. I’m really disappointed…it just seems like I’m never going to be fixed.

I’ve been feeling really down lately and with the added injury, it hasn’t helped my mood much. Friday brought in a huge wave of fog. Ironically, it fit my mood quite well. There’s been a lot of tears lately.

That’s a sneak peak into the dress I’m wearing for the wedding this upcoming weekend. I don’t have shoes yet though!

The rest of the weekend I spent with my parents but my dad specifically. We built a table together. My kitchen is really poorly planned. There are no counters or cabinets and my dining room is basically a place for stuff and my rabbit. I’ve really been wanting a change in my place so I figured having an actual dining room was a decent starting point. The completed table will be stained dark walnut. I’m excited for the change.

bisexualpiratequeen:

I’m trying hard to live by Cat Principles.

1- I am glorious above all things
2- Eat when hungry, sleep when sleepy, play when bored
3- Affection is given and received on my terms and only mine
4- Show displeasure clearly.
5- NO
6- Demand the things you want. If they aren’t given, demand them again, but louder this time.
7- If you are touched when you don’t want to be, say so. If they continue to touch you, make them bleed.

(via teninchheroine)

His favorite toy and he’s very protective of it. Protection = growling.

His favorite toy and he’s very protective of it. Protection = growling.

Weekend Update + something I’m still bothered by

Unfortunately, I don’t really have any photos from this weekend. If you check my instagram, you’ll see 2 photos from the weekend and the only other one is of my cat. So I will spare you and instead dump a big text post on you. You’re welcome.

+ Saturday afternoon I went on the MKE brewery tour with Hannah. Twas fun. We went down the street afterwards to use our tokens for free beer and ate pub grub like cheese curds! Rob was super energized after work so instead of the nap I was craving, I got on the motorcycle and we visited his friend at a block party. It was an apartment complex block party so definitely not what I was expecting.

+ In true anti-social fashion, I hungout with the cat, Obi Wan. Everyone was just so drunk and it was kind of annoying.

+ I met 2 Korean girls, who are studying here, at the block party. The 3 of us were talking to Rob’s friend, who at this point was drinking water, when his friend came up to him and called him a vagina. To which, both the Koreans turned to me to ask what that meant. So I had to explain to them that to some people, women are seen as the weaker sex so in the case of this girl calling him a vagina, she was implying he was weak for not drinking beer/already drinking water. It sucked. It was lame. I hated so much that I had to say that, that that is [currently] reality. I just hate that that girl used “vagina” as an insult.

+ Since the block party was really close to this pub that Rob’s friend/ex-coworker frequents, he wanted to stop in there. So as expected, the guy was sitting at the bar. We grabbed burgers and beers and caught up with his friend. I liked this part of the evening the best. The guy next to us and the bartenders got along really well with us so the conversation was really great. I like good conversation, it makes me feel like the time I spend with people is actually of value. That those people are worth my time. As I get older, I have less patience for bullshit.

+ Sunday. Since we were out really late on Saturday, we majorly slept in. I enjoyed sipping coffee, doing my physical therapy for my back and watching Who Framed Roger Rabbit (for the first time) while Rob slept. Then we went shopping and picked up a patio table/chair set for the yard. We got a hand held massager which was probably the best $35 Rob has spent! (I still woke up this morning with pain though so I have a doctor’s appointment for Friday. I can’t wait.)

Not a super eventful weekend but ya’know…can’t have it all.

It’s Monday. I’m going home at 6pm and a middle aged man and a teenage boy are the only people left on the bus with me. I consider the fact that because the driver is also a man I am the only person left on the bus with the correct genetic makeup for boobs. I’m automatically scared, scared because of my own anatomy. I wonder how old I was when I realized that my own body was going to be the cause of the constant anxiety and fear I feel in situations like this. I get off at the last stop and the older man smiles at me while following me up the street. His smile drips, drips, drips and my heart is pounding, pounding, pounding. He turns off down another road, but I run the rest of the way home.

Not all men.

I’m at home on a Tuesday, beginning to plan the travels I want to go on next year. I dream of wandering the streets and meeting strangers. I just can’t wait to escape the city I’ve lived in for 17 long years. But… my mum is hesitant. She’s forever worried about the danger that being a young girl traveling alone can bring. I’ll be alone and she’s scared. Surely I’m invincible. I feel invincible. But I know, I know this danger is real and I can’t help but think to myself, if I feel unsafe in my own city, how am i going to feel in a strange place with strange men who don’t speak the same language as me? If I was my brother planning this, I would probably just be wondering if European girls are going to be hot.

Not all men.

Wednesday is a beautiful sunny day but I’ve always been told that I don’t have a “nice enough body” to wear a bikini on the beach. Ever since I was 6 years old I’ve thought that having tummy fat was ugly. That skin that doesn’t have a perfectly golden glow is undesirable. I amble to a clear patch of sand in my one piece and I can feel pairs of eyes latching onto me. Hairy men in speedos who I don’t look twice at eat into my body with their stares. I’m a piece of meat. I am a piece of meat? I am here for their amusement. Please don’t let me be eaten alive.

Not all men.

Thursday night two friends and I are walking to our god damn school dance when we hear “Jesus look at you! You sluts heading to a pole?” These words snarl out of the mouth of a respectably dressed man and we stop in horror. Shivers roll up my back in fear. It’s dark. We are alone. What. Do. We. Do??? One of us pulls the finger back. I can never be sure how quickly a sexist man can get angry so we walk quickly away. We’re angry, so so angry. But also so… deflated. I wonder if we deserve this shame.

Not all men.

Sitting on the internet, Friday night and scrolling down my Facebook newsfeed:

“Haha, good job at the game today bro. You RAPED them!”
“Damn with tits like that, you’re asking for it :P”

Another sexist comment…
Another sexist comment…
Another sexist comment…

I’m shrinking and shrinking and shrinking and I want to CRY because these boys don’t realize how small they make me feel with just pressing a few keys. I see these boys on the streets, I talk to these boys, I laugh with these boys. Dear GOD, dear GOD i hope these boys don’t think actions speak louder than words…

Not all men.

Three rules that have been drilled into me since I was young run through my mind at 1.30am on a Satur… Sunday Morning:

-Don’t ever talk to strange men
-Don’t ever be alone at night in a strange place
-Don’t ever get into a car with a stranger

I break all 3 of these laws as I pull open the taxi door. Making light conversation with the driver, he doesn’t see my sweaty hand clutching the small pocket knife I keep hidden on me at all times. He doesn’t even realize the fear I feel at his mere presence. He cannot comprehend it, he never will. How easy would this 15 minute car ride be if I was born a boy?

Not all men.

It comes to Sunday, another snoozy, sleepy, Sunday and someone has the AUDACITY to tell me not all men are rapists. I say nothing.

I’m a 17 year old girl.
When I am walking alone and it’s dark, it’s all men.
When I am in a car with a man I don’t know well, it’s all men.
When men drunkenly leer at me on the streets, it’s all men.
When a boy won’t leave me alone at a party, it’s all men.

Not all men are rapists. But for a young girl like me? Every one of them has the potential to be.

Not.
All.
Men.

(via nonjazzscatcat)

this is amazing

(via silverindies)

(Source: trueho, via schwarze-katze)