#let a girl kvell

[laineystein]

I know that the media would have you believing that war is constant and ruthless but sometimes it’s a lot of sitting around and waiting for orders. And a lot of talking. Really introspective talking. And the things that people say when there’s a very real chance that they might die, are probably the most poignant and well said. So here’s a conversation my unit had in a million different ways with a million different words:

We love beings Jews. We love being Israeli. We can’t imagine being anything else or belonging to any other group. But this statistic that we are 0.2% of the worlds population has been so much more than a statistic lately. We all feel it. We feel how so much of the world has turned their backs on us — how the same people that posted those stupid blue squares on instagram are now using language that calls for our genocide and the destruction of our homeland. We know that for so many people we are pawns in their political game. We know that so many people think we are sub-human and therefore deserving of less respect than any other person. We don’t need anyone to tell us what they think of us because so many people are showing us by what they’re doing or not doing. And that’s okay. We’re used to it. We’ve always been alone. We’ve always fought (and won) our own battles. We’ll win this one without any of you. It’s fine. But it makes me think about how the same people that alienate us are the ones that critique how we live in insular communities (like the neighborhood I grew up in Crown Heights) and how our religion is closed and how we don’t need a place (read: Israel) where we all live together (assumedly because no other group has such a place — which is just a total lie). And there’s this thought amongst many Jews that communities like the one I grew up in in Brooklyn exist as a result of the persecution we faced. Just like there’s this thought that Israel exists because of the Holocaust. The survivors of the worst thing that can happen to a group decided to live together and close out the outside world. Now I’d argue that we certainly haven’t closed anyone out in Israel - I’m currently serving with Israelis that are Arab and Druze. But is our country very Jew-centric? Absolutely. Just like Crown Heights is very Jew-centric. Goyim can/do live and visit Crown Heights but it is a place that caters to what is otherwise considered a counter-culture in America. Just like Israel caters to Jews in an area of the world where all of us were expelled. We are fine living in these places. We have created these communities and curated them to our Jewish way of life. But people wonder why we close ourselves off and why we need special spaces - and that same ignorance is the answer. Sure, our diets are different and we have laws about how we go to school and work and pray that make it very difficult to live in a non-Jewish world but there’s a very real truth that so many people are scared to say aloud so I will: We don’t trust goyim. Goyim have never stood up for us or protected us. Only we can keep ourselves safe. Only we truly care about our wellbeing. We do not feel safe around goyim. And I think we have every right to be distrustful. We have every right to think that our survival and security rests solely in our fellow Jew. So while this has all proven that the Jewish people are amazing and loving and stronger than even we knew, it’s also only cemented this idea that we absolutely need our own world. And it’s clear that we’ve essentially lived in our own world all this time anyway - our world view is not your world view. Our experiences are so incredibly different than the goy experience. If you’re not Jewish and especially if you’re not an Israeli Jew, you can’t possibly understand any of this. And that’s fine! But don’t get angry when, in the absence of your support, we’ve figured it out. And don’t be upset when your Jewish friends - Israeli or not - have pushed you away because you didn’t show up in the way they’d hoped. You’ve merely proven us right. We do not need you. Our communities are enough. Our country is enough. Together, we will outlive you.

#let a girl kvetch #let a girl kvell #I really don’t know which one fits better here #⚔️🇮🇱 #we will outlive you

[startrekbookreview]

Weirdest Star Trek Book Covers

Hi to my new followers! Thank you Diane Duane for roasting me, still kvelling/recuperating from that iconic moment. 

So, this is not a review because I just started grad school and it’s kicking my ass, but it is an edifying compilation of Trek lit! 

I have a library of Trek books (about 150, and growing with an alarming frequency). I have culled through my collection to find the weirdest covers for your viewing and perhaps one day reading pleasure. 

Here’s my top 5. 

5. Star Trek: First Frontier by Diane Carey

I’m easing us in with a nice and silly cover. Diane Carey is a prolific Trek author and one of my favs (reviews forthcoming but check out Dreadnought! and Battlestations! for an awesome OC and third party Premise positing), so while I might judge this book’s cover that won’t stop me from digging in. Space husbands. Dinosaurs. What’s not to love?? 

As an added bonus, I really love the back of the book as well: 

It makes the lil dinosaur look like he’s part of the crew <3 Or did Bones get turned into a dinosaur? Read and find out! 

4. Time for Yesterday by A.C. Crispin 

This one rides the line between weird and awesome, but I love it so much I had to share it. Look at this dude bursting out of the Guardian of Forever on his fanged horse! Fuck yeah! This book came out in 1988, a year before Star Trek V (and I haven’t read it yet lol), so I’m not 100% sure if there’s a connection between this carnivorous looking cheval and Sybock’s steed, but I’ll report back as soon as I have any answers.  

3. Ghost-Walker by Barbara Hambly 

There’s A LOT to unpack here. Firstly, we LOVE the classic cover art. It’s super frustrating that a lot of Trek books don’t credit the artists!! However, some quick googling shows me that this amazing cover is by Keith Birdsong, who did a ton of Trek art. Thank you, Keith, for your vision. I have some questions. 

WHY does the bird man have fingernails?? The fingers(??) look like bird feet, so why aren’t there claws/talons?? WHAT is this bird person doing to our Jimbo?? “A mysterious force” indeed. Peep the fleshy-looking stalactites as well as Bird Person’s glorious head of hair. Hair AND feathers?? Ok, moving on to... 

2. Time Trap by David Dvorkin 

Ok, I feel a little mean including this one because I’m just calling it out for being Bad Weird Art. But what is up with everyone’s eyes??? I’m not talking about the Eyebrow Situation going on with the figure on the left (except for how I just did oop); let’s look at our boy Jim. Don’t look too closely at his hand/arm. Let’s focus on the eyes. 

And maybe a little closer... 

Too close?? This cover makes the list for the feeling of Unease it inspires within me. 

But the real winner in terms of Unrepentantly Weird I’m throwing under the cut. Click if you’re feeling brave. 

And #1... 

Mind Meld, by John Vornholt

WHY, JOHN, WHY???

Ok, that out of the way, let’s sit with our discomfort and analyze this. Here’s what freaks me out: 

1. Unfamiliar Vulcan child. I’m not a kid person, but I still think it’s weird. It wigs me out that this girl looks like the quintessential cute little white girl you’d see in any movie or cough syrup commercial. She doesn’t look like a Vulcan to me! Now, Vulcans can have all sorts of skin tones and eye colors, but where the fuck’s the bowl cut?? 

2. The use of photos instead of paintings. It’s just weird. All Trek books that use photos weird me out. Thank you for coming to my Ted talk. 

3. Spock. He’s interrogating us. I feel the weight of his Ga(y)ze and I am intensely uncomfortable. Why is he scrutinizing me?? And the fact that the lighting in this photo he has been ‘shopped out of is so different from that of the child adds to my unease. He looks disappointed, and whether it’s in me, or in him for appearing on this cover, I cannot say. 

#star trek book review #star trek books #ac crispin #diane carey #ghost-walker #timetrap #star trek first frontier #star trek mind meld #time for yesterday

[7r0773r]

Love, Dishonor, Marry, Die, Cherish, Perish: A Novel by David Rakoff

It was close and convenient, his spare midtown rental. And after, more drinks at a bar near Grand Central To sit once again in uncomfortable silence Like two guilty parties to some kind of violence. They sipped among other oblivion seekers, While June Christy sang from the bar’s tinny speakers. He settled the bill and they got to their feet, And emerged from the afternoon hush to the street. 

They walked arm in arm in some crude imitation Of other real couples en route to the station. Such leisurely strolling, although it’s grown late Against her best judgment it feels like a date. His booze-cloud blown over, now happy, near beaming  He stops at a window of cutlery, gleaming, He points out the wares, taking note of a set that He likes best of all, then he says, “We should get that.” She knows it’s a joke, all this idle house-playing But briefly she hopes that he means what he’s saying. Her presence, she thinks, is what’s rendered him gladder But really it’s just that he aimed for, and had her. The hideous reason behind his new glow is What Helen—and many just like her—don’t know is 

That men’s moods turn light and their spirits expand, The moment they sense an escape is at hand. He patted her cheek as he said, “I’m replenished,” Then off through the crowd for the next train to Greenwich. 

Helen pictured his house with its broad flagstone path. The windows lit up, a child fresh from the bath, And wondered if she might just smell on his skin, The coppery scent of their afternoon sin. At her desk the next Monday it was business as always. There were no words exchanged, not a glance in the hallways. With relief, Helen thought, Well that’s that. Nevermore. ’Til Friday (again) at his pied-à-terre door.

***

“Joshua, Susan, dear family and friends, A few words, if you will, before everything ends And you skip out of here to begin your new life As happily married husband and wife. You’ve promised to honor, to love and obey, We’ve sipped our champagne and been cleansed with sorbet All in endorsement of your Hers and His-dom. So, let me add my two cents’ worth of wisdom. Herewith, as a coda to this evening historical I just thought I’d tell you this tale allegorical. 

I was wracking my brains sitting here at this table Until I remembered this suitable fable. Each reptilian hero, each animal squeal Serves a purpose, you see, because they reveal A truth about life, even as they distort us So here is ‘The Tale of the Scorpion and Tortoise.’ 

The scorpion was hamstrung, his tail all aquiver. Just how would he manage to get ’cross the river? ‘The water’s so deep,’ he observed with a sigh, Which pricked at the ears of the tortoise nearby. ‘Well, why don’t you swim?’ asked the slow-moving fellow. ‘Unless you’re afraid. Is that it, you are yellow?’ ‘That’s rude,’ said the scorpion, ‘and I’m not afraid So much as unable. It’s not how I’m made.’ 

‘Forgive me, I didn’t mean to be glib when I said that, I figured you were an amphibian. The error was one of misclassification I mistakenly figured you for a crustacean.’ 

‘No offense taken,’ the scorpion replied. ‘But how ’bout you help me to reach the far side? You swim like a dream, and you have what I lack. What say you take me across on your back?’ 

‘I’m really not sure that’s the best thing to do,’ Said the tortoise, ‘Now that I see that it’s you. You’re the scorpion and—how can I say this?—just … well… I don’t know I feel safe with you riding my shell. You’ve a less-than-ideal reputation preceding. There’s talk of your victims, all poisoned and bleeding, That fact by itself should be reason sufficient. I mean, what do you take me for, mentally deficient?’ ‘I hear what you’re saying, but what would that prove? We’d both drown so tell me, how would that behoove Me, to basically die at my very own hand When all I desire is to be on dry land?’ 

The tortoise considered the scorpion’s defense. When he gave it some thought, it made perfect sense. The niggling voice in his mind he ignored And he swam to the bank and called out ‘Climb aboard.’ 

The tortoise was wrong to ignore all his doubts Because in the end, friends, our true selves will out. For, just a few moments from when they set sail The scorpion lashed out with his venomous tail. The tortoise, too late, understood that he’d blundered When he felt his flesh stabbed and his carapace sundered. As he fought for his life, he said, ‘Please tell me why You have done this, for now we will surely both die!’ 

‘I don’t know,’ cried the scorpion. ‘You never should trust A creature like me, because poison I must. I’d claim some remorse or at least some compunction But I just can’t help it. My form is my function. You thought I’d behave like my cousin the crab But unlike him, it is but my nature to stab.’ 

The tortoise expired with one final quiver And then both of them sank, swallowed up by the river.” Nathan paused, cleared his throat, took a sip of his drink. He needed these extra few seconds to think. The room had grown frosty, the tension was growing, Folks wondered precisely where Nathan was going. The prospects of skirting fiasco seemed dim But what he said next surprised even him. 

“So what can we learn from their watery ends? Is there some lesson on how to be friends? I think what it means is that central to living A life that is good is a life that’s forgiving. We’re creatures of contact, regardless of whether To kiss or to wound, we still must come together. Like in Annie Hall, we endure twists and torsions For food we don’t like, and in such tiny portions! But, like hating a food but still asking for more It beats staying dry but so lonely on shore. So we make ourselves open, while knowing full well It’s essentially saying, ‘Please, come pierce my shell.’ So … please, let’s all raise up our glasses of wine And I’ll finish this toast with these words that aren’t mine: Yet each man kills the thing he loves, By each let this be heard, Some do it with a bitter look, Some with a flattering word, The coward does it with a kiss, The brave man with a sword!” 

Where first it seemed that Nathan had his old resentments cleanly hurdled, The air now held the mildest scent of something sweet gone meanly curdled. The thorough ambiguity held guests in states of mild confusion No one raised their eyes, lest a met glance be taken for collusion. Silence doesn’t paint the depth of quiet in that room There was no clinking stemware toasting to the bride or groom. You could have heard a petal as it landed on the floor. And in that quiet Nathan turned and walked right out the door. 

The urinal’s wall was The King and His Court, A work done in porcelain, precisely the sort Of tableau of gentility at Le Petit Trianon, A cast of nobility, designed for the peeing on. Nate turned his gaze as he hosed down the scene, It seemed an especially brutish and mean Treatment of all the baroque figures in it (Such unlucky placement, poor girl at her spinet). He needed this pit stop before he took off To go catch his train, when he heard a slight cough. 

There, twisting a swan’s head in gold for hot water Was Lou, who had bankrolled this day for his daughter. Lou had scared Nathan for all of the years He was with Susan, and now the sum of his fears Was here, now the chickens had come home to land. “The man of the hour, with his schvantz in his hand.” Nathan started to say that he knew how he blew it And how he was sorry, but Lou beat him to it; Lou, who was blunt—some said boorish—and rich. But a mensch deep at heart, said, “My Suzy’s a bitch. You’d think that today I’d be proud, that I’d kvell, But I followed you out here just so I could tell You: she told her friends she would be able to get You to come give a toast. It’s a monstrous bet, Made all the more awful that her Day of Joy Was still incomplete, and abusing a boy In a trick was the thing that she wanted above All else. It’s the mark of a girl who can’t love. Ach, Nathan, this day is a stroke of bad luck. You, cast in this play, and then played for a schmuck. But think of it this way, she’ll wake up tomorrow And still be unhappy. And that is my sorrow.” 

Lou turned off the swan’s head, once more checked his tie, Held his arm out and said, “This is good-bye.” He shook Nathan’s hand and then made for the door Where he paused and he turned to say just one thing more. “That toast, if you give it again (but you won’t), Remember, Nate: turtles swim, tortoises don’t.”

#david rakoff #book quotes

[duaneodavila]

Short Take: Sucks To Be Mark Judge

Imagine if you’re some random guy who was friends with someone who, decades later, became a nominee for the Supreme Court and ended up in the middle of the gender war vortex. You did things back then that were unseemly and wrote a book about it, admitting that you were a drunk, that you engaged in conduct which, in retrospect, you regret. Not that anyone cared much about you. Until you ended up on the front page.

If you were Mark Judge, would you want to be in the middle of this storm? There’s no upside for Judge. If he came out smelling like a rose, he wouldn’t win any prize. He’s not being nominated for anything. He’s not going to get a talk show out of it, or be asked to give inspirational speeches to groups of kvelling women.

His position is that he has nothing to offer in support of Christine Blasey Ford’s accusations against him and Brett Kavanaugh. He’s not saying he remembers, and it never happened, although words to that effect appear to have been uttered.

I do not recall the events described in Dr. Ford’s testimony before the US Senate Judiciary Committee today. I never saw Brett act in the manner Dr. Ford describes.

Let’s assume, arguendo, that Judge cooperates with the reopened FBI background check and repeats these words verbatim. It can be argued that he does not affirmatively state that Ford’s accusations did not happen, but he forecloses the possibility that they did in his second sentence.

Calls to compel Judge to testify, to repeat these words, aren’t the point. Does any modestly intelligent person believe they are, or that he will break down under the fierce examination by Kamala Harris and, sobbing, exclaim “yes, we did it, Brett did it, Brett tried to rape this poor girl”?

There is a fairly obvious reason why the Democrats on the committee demanded his testimony, beyond the mere fact that he wasn’t going to testify, leaving him an open wound to exploit without any fear that they would be taken up on their challenge and the vapidity of their demand exposed. Mark Judge could offer generalized testimony, without regard to Ford or this particular accusation, about the lifestyle of teenaged Brett Kavanaugh. Judge was the key to Kavanaugh’s drunk debauchery as a teen, if not directly (assuming Judge refuse to state that Kavanaugh was a drunk or engaged in debauchery), by association as Judge’s own book betrays any claim of his own purity.

Judge offers his own personal reasons why testimony would be traumatic, from being a recovering alcoholic to a cancer survivor, from suffering from depression and anxiety, all of which touch on issues that those concerned with progressive concerns deeply appreciate until there is someone they hate enough to ignore every claimed belief they hold dear. Destroying the poster boy for toxic masculinity is more than enough reason to sacrifice Mark Judge for the cause.

Would Judge not be put in the position of invoking his Fifth Amendment right to remain silent before the committee if he had been complicit in the sexual assault of Christine Ford? Of course, but that would be fine, as fodder to undermine Kavanaugh’s denial. After all, no innocent person invokes the Fifth, right? Sure, that used to be the case, but sides have flipped, arguments swapped and each side believes with absolute certainty the position they rejected with absolutely certainty before.

Mark Judge is a red herring in all this, a sacrificial lamb to a sacrificial lamb. If he went public, testified before the committee, his world, which apparently sucks now, would reach new depths of awfulness. Maybe even a depth from which he can’t recover. Who willingly seeks to take a crappy life and make it worse, maybe so bad that it’s no longer worth living?

It’s completely understandable why the Democrats on the committee, and their supporters, want Mark Judge to testify. He might have nothing to offer on Ford, but he could open a window to a sordid youth they could exploit to great advantage. But at least recognize that your tears for Ford come at the sacrifice of Judge, whose life you care nothing about. Wrapping it in pink ribbons doesn’t make the lie any prettier.

Judge has nothing to offer on Ford, whether you believe him or not. He has made that clear “under penalty of felony,” as has become the committee’s fashion to say. That he refuses to do your bidding to open the window into Kavanaugh’s wild childhood of misadventure, if not sexual assault, isn’t about you. It’s about a guy trying to survive who never asked to be part of your war. Not that you care.

Mark Judge will never be able to fade back into the mist. His name will always be tied to this fiasco. This won’t matter to you, as you don’t have to be him, to live his life, to suffer his misery. But to the extent he doesn’t have to cooperate in his further ruination, to elevate his profile and the hatred he’ll suffer for whatever he says short of Kavanaugh is as the rapiest rapist who ever raped, it would be insane for him to do otherwise.

Judge’s life already sucks. Don’t hate him for not allowing you to make his life suck even worse.

Short Take: Sucks To Be Mark Judge republished via Simple Justice

[laineystein]

Nobody asked but

It was so nice driving out of the city after work tonight. I am a city girl but I feel like as I get older I’m really loving the peace that comes with a bit more space and a lot less noise. I also like the privacy of my parents’ home and the fact that they have an actual true mamad (✨priorities✨). And it was so nice getting to hug them and it was nice sitting around talking and just existing without worrying that I’m going to die or that I need to take care of someone else so they don’t die. I am still really unnerved by the stillness of being home but I’m really trying to lean into it and focus on the positives. So I made a list of things that I’m enjoying, which is different than the list of things I was missing while I was in G*za:

Wearing dresses/skirts. Letting my skin breathe. Letting my body move without being constricted by pants and socks and knee pads and vests and kits and…

Peeing alone. Sorry if this is TMI but I couldn’t do anything alone because being alone meant was a greater risk of being unalived.

Wearing jewelery. Wearing perfume. Wearing my hair down. Being a woman.

Going for my runs 🙌🏼 Running wasn’t a fun, positive activity. If you were running there was a fucking problem.

Not feeling like I have the weight of the world on my shoulders because I no longer have the responsibility of keeping 78 men alive.

So thank you hashem for another day and for giving us so much to be grateful for. Amennn 🙏🏼

#lainey things #⚔️🇮🇱 #let a girl kvell #my heart is very full tonight #TYH!

[laineystein]

Just got home from the most beautiful wedding of a very dear friend. This week was an absolute mess and ultimately so shitty but love always prevails and reminds you what’s important in life — and subsequently everything that is not. At all. Ever.

TYH!!!

#lainey things #let a girl kvell #TYH!

[laineystein]

I really need to get to bed but while I drank my tea I decided to make a good majority of my personal posts on here private. This website has made me feel like I'm an exhibit at a museum lately and I don't feel comfortable sharing things (at least photos) in the way I used to. BUT, it was a nice walk down memory lane. I started this stupid blog in April of 2021 - when COVID was still rampant and right before Hamas' May 2021 rocket attacks. COVID is much calmer now but Hamas is still on their bullshit. Shocker. But it was mamash crazy to see the progression.

Long agonizing shifts in the ED in New York. Summer Shabbos' spent outside the city. Complaining about Northeast weather (because it's horrible). Forever missing Israel. Countdowns to Israel. Being a completely different person here because I was just so supremely unhappy back in New York. Turning my now husband from my best friend to my boyfriend. Telling our families. Dealing with that fallout. Selling my place in Harlem. Moving uptown into my husband's apartment. Quarantining in Israel during COVID. Deciding to move back to Israel full time. Selling our stuff and leaving. The engagement. The wedding. Anniversaries. Deaths. So much davening. Alll the simchos. And now a war.

33 year old me barely recognizes 30 year old me. Good for us.

#lainey things #let a girl kvell

[laineystein]

Sometimes you have shifts in the ED where you just feel off and tonight was absolutely that shift for me. But toward the end a very drunk olah came in. She made Aliyah 2!!!! days ago. She (*wait for the most Tel Aviv thing ever*) sliced her foot open using her window to get out onto the roof of her apartment building. She was panicked and really struggling to communicate with my team about what she’d eaten/drank during the day and the medications she’s on. Like…she has no grasp of the Hebrew language. If she went to Hebrew school she slept through it. But the absolute joy and relief on her face when I was called over to talk with her…priceless. Kind of made the rest of my shitty shift seem insignificant. And now I am off for the rest of the week BH! I was supposed to leave two hours before this happened but things kept delaying that. Sometimes Hashem knows what you need!

#lainey things #let a girl kvell #er md #md things #tales from the er

[laineystein]

I tried to find the original post but I can’t:

A few years ago, before I was even engaged, one of my brothers and I went to the beach with my parents. My relationship with my partner was somewhat new (at least officially) at the time and my brother had just broken up with his goy girlfriend (BH). Now I’m married and he’s engaged. But we’re back here, without our significant others, and it’s just like it was back then. Siblings are a blessing and I’m so lucky to have my brothers. Even if they’re all a nightmare and do nothing but insult me.

Time passes and everything changes and everything is the same.

#lainey things #let a girl kvell #not really kvelling…just sharing?

[laineystein]

Our (English) wedding song came on at the cafe I was sitting at today and I just started crying out of gratitude. Life is a mess but love is beautiful. That’s all.

#lainey things #crowded table #the highwomen #it’s is mood it’s a VIBE #let a girl kvell #Spotify

[laineystein]

I forgot how loud New Years can be in Tel Aviv but the entire 21-29 yr. old population is currently reminding me by screaming in the street. Holidays constantly have me remembering that I am now old and married and boring and the girl I was when I moved into this apartment wouldn’t recognize the woman I am now.

#lainey things #let a girl kvell #let a girl kvetch #not sure which one #it’s a mood it’s a vibe #Oy gevalt my life

[laineystein]

I had a day where I really and truly felt how at peace I am in my current life. And you can only come to this realization when you’ve previously experienced chaos and I genuinely felt like most of the first 30 years of my life was chaos. Does this mean my life is perfect and I only know happiness? Of course not. Things just feel as stable as they’ve ever been and it is giving me so much clarity BH. I genuinely wish this feeling for everyone. There’s nothing like it.

#let a girl kvell #lainey things #just needed to share #thank you hashem

[laineystein]

Okay so no one probably cares but it’s my blog and I can kvell if I want to and ahhhhh we are getting engagement photos done today and typically my partner and I make fun of people that do these photo shoots but aahhhhhhh it’s so much fun and the photos look so good and my heart is fullllll 🥰🥰🥰

#chatunah things #let a girl kvell #lainey things #*incoherent screaming*

[laineystein]

I saw a picture of my great-grandmother today…and we have the same fucking face. I always thought I looked like my dad (I certainly do not look like my mother) but nope - I look like my great grandmother which is my *mother’s* grandmother. And she’s bukharian. So to all of the curious nazis that creep-follow me, there’s your answer to the infamous Why Are You Brown? question.

Genetics are fucking wild.

#lainey things #let a girl kvell #jew things #I have…emotions now

[laineystein]

It’s my [Israeli] bachelorette party tomorrow and I am sooooooo excited!!!!!

🥳🥳🥳🥳

#yalla let’s goooooo #lainey things #chatunah things #let a girl kvell

[laineystein]

The next 30 days are going to be BALAGANNNNNN. And I am soooo ready.

🥰🎉🪩🍾💐💍💃🏽

(This is your warning. If joy isn’t your thing, it’s probably a good time to unfollow)

#lainey things #chatunah things #ahhhhhh #let a girl kvell