March 29th, 2014

How to Fake Confidence

onlinecounsellingcollege:

1. Hold your head high, and look others in the eye

2. Smile

3. Stop apologizing

4. Relax and be quick to laugh at yourself (but not at others!)

5. Dress in a way that indicates you have self worth

6. Use good manners (like saying please and thank you) as this is actually a mark of self respect

7. Expect other people to believe in you, and to see and appreciate your good qualities.

If all misfortunes were laid in one common heap whence everyone must take an equal portion, most people would be contented to take their own and depart.
georgianadesign:

Nievera Williams Landscape Architecture, Palm Beach, FL.

georgianadesign:

Nievera Williams Landscape Architecture, Palm Beach, FL.

kateoplis:

"Love consists in this,
that two solitudes protect,
touch, and greet each other.
Rainer Maria Rilke

art: Gustav Deutsch, Shirley: Visions of Reality

March 27th, 2014
theatlantic:

Chemists Decree: Don’t Pee in the Pool

Here’s the thing. One-piece bathing suits, when wet, are very annoying to take off. And when you’re swimming three hours a day, as I did for practice on my high school swim team, climbing out of the pool, taking it off, and putting it back on every time you have to use the bathroom starts to feel burdensome. So maybe you just… go…somewhere in between the one millionth and one millionth and first lap you’ve swum that day.
Urine is sterile, and chlorine is sterilizing, right? This is the justification we offered ourselves, to counter our shame. Plus, decorated Olympic swimmers Michael Phelps and Ryan Lochte do it.
Turns out that was a pretty bad idea, for more reasons than just the ick factor. A new study published in the American Chemical Society’s journal Environmental Science & Technology, looked at the chemistry of what happens when urine meets chlorine, and it isn’t pretty.
Read more. [Image: Matt Dunham/AP]


I’ll never get in a public swimming pool again.

theatlantic:

Chemists Decree: Don’t Pee in the Pool

Here’s the thing. One-piece bathing suits, when wet, are very annoying to take off. And when you’re swimming three hours a day, as I did for practice on my high school swim team, climbing out of the pool, taking it off, and putting it back on every time you have to use the bathroom starts to feel burdensome. So maybe you just… go…somewhere in between the one millionth and one millionth and first lap you’ve swum that day.

Urine is sterile, and chlorine is sterilizing, right? This is the justification we offered ourselves, to counter our shame. Plus, decorated Olympic swimmers Michael Phelps and Ryan Lochte do it.

Turns out that was a pretty bad idea, for more reasons than just the ick factor. A new study published in the American Chemical Society’s journal Environmental Science & Technology, looked at the chemistry of what happens when urine meets chlorine, and it isn’t pretty.

Read more. [Image: Matt Dunham/AP]

I’ll never get in a public swimming pool again.

kateoplis:

New York City may be an expensive place to live. Jobs are not easy to find, even as the city rebounds from the recession. And the public transit system is not always reliable or comfortable.

"The streets are filled with garbage in even the best of neighborhoods…

During the winters the sun is something spoken of only as rumor, and the persistence of darkness denies you the distraction from the emptiness of your existence that a bright summer’s day helps obscure. As you trudge through the dank, refuse-encrusted streets you are constantly reminded that the work you do is meaningless and no one would miss you if you were gone, even the people for whom your passing might mean more insignificant toil added to their own useless list of tasks.

The constant cacophony of construction carries the twinned curse of brutal bursts of deafening sound at unpredictable intervals and the visual reminder that these new shiny glass monstrosities—these blots on the skyline that are doing permanent damage to the horizon—are being built for the people who have somehow figured out the trick of accruing compensation for the magic arts of prevarication which you are either too incompetent or self-important to manage on your own. Each time you cross the street because another expensive tower is going up it is a series of swift blows to the psyche with the implicit rebuke to your failure the sharpest punch.

Your days are spent in a constant pageant of activity and everyone takes part in the charade because that is the way we convince ourselves that our drudgery has merit and isn’t actually anxiety-inducing motion gone through for the sake of personal validation. No one stops to question why we suffer through this demoralizing routine when only a small number of people—who have already been the beneficiaries of a system designed to ensure that those with the most are able to keep it and get more—actually enjoy the returns on all the make-work. In those rare moments when you aren’t driving yourself deeper into the hole to keep up your illusion of value there is no respite to be found in stillness, only an echoing chasm the utter hollowness of which is made slightly less empty by your filling it with regret, alcohol and episodic television, which we are all making claims for as the Great Literature of Our Age rather than cop and mob shows with better production values.

Your loneliness is matched by a horrible disquiet, the source of which is the unspoken truth that everything is terribly tenuous and even the meager living you are scratching out right now is but one or two small accidents or omissions removed from that of those sad unfortunate souls you see sleeping on the streets or muttering mindlessly to themselves as you pass them by, pretending not to notice. It would take one tiny tug of the thread for everything to unravel and even all the energy you presently put in to papering over the terrible flaws and dark parts of your personality will no longer do you any good because after a certain point there is no compassion, no forgiveness and finally not even an acknowledgement of your existence.

When you sleep it is only with the aid of powerful prescription medication which helps drown out the sirens signalling the injury, death and wanton acts of human cruelty all around you.”

But despite the challenges of city living, the city’s population is growing in ways not seen in decades.

Alex Balk: Population Growing

art: Drawings for Manhattan

no words…

kateoplis:

New York City may be an expensive place to live. Jobs are not easy to find, even as the city rebounds from the recession. And the public transit system is not always reliable or comfortable.

"The streets are filled with garbage in even the best of neighborhoods…

During the winters the sun is something spoken of only as rumor, and the persistence of darkness denies you the distraction from the emptiness of your existence that a bright summer’s day helps obscure. As you trudge through the dank, refuse-encrusted streets you are constantly reminded that the work you do is meaningless and no one would miss you if you were gone, even the people for whom your passing might mean more insignificant toil added to their own useless list of tasks.

The constant cacophony of construction carries the twinned curse of brutal bursts of deafening sound at unpredictable intervals and the visual reminder that these new shiny glass monstrosities—these blots on the skyline that are doing permanent damage to the horizon—are being built for the people who have somehow figured out the trick of accruing compensation for the magic arts of prevarication which you are either too incompetent or self-important to manage on your own. Each time you cross the street because another expensive tower is going up it is a series of swift blows to the psyche with the implicit rebuke to your failure the sharpest punch.

Your days are spent in a constant pageant of activity and everyone takes part in the charade because that is the way we convince ourselves that our drudgery has merit and isn’t actually anxiety-inducing motion gone through for the sake of personal validation. No one stops to question why we suffer through this demoralizing routine when only a small number of people—who have already been the beneficiaries of a system designed to ensure that those with the most are able to keep it and get more—actually enjoy the returns on all the make-work. In those rare moments when you aren’t driving yourself deeper into the hole to keep up your illusion of value there is no respite to be found in stillness, only an echoing chasm the utter hollowness of which is made slightly less empty by your filling it with regret, alcohol and episodic television, which we are all making claims for as the Great Literature of Our Age rather than cop and mob shows with better production values.

Your loneliness is matched by a horrible disquiet, the source of which is the unspoken truth that everything is terribly tenuous and even the meager living you are scratching out right now is but one or two small accidents or omissions removed from that of those sad unfortunate souls you see sleeping on the streets or muttering mindlessly to themselves as you pass them by, pretending not to notice. It would take one tiny tug of the thread for everything to unravel and even all the energy you presently put in to papering over the terrible flaws and dark parts of your personality will no longer do you any good because after a certain point there is no compassion, no forgiveness and finally not even an acknowledgement of your existence.

When you sleep it is only with the aid of powerful prescription medication which helps drown out the sirens signalling the injury, death and wanton acts of human cruelty all around you.”

But despite the challenges of city living, the city’s population is growing in ways not seen in decades.

Alex Balk: Population Growing

art: Drawings for Manhattan

strange…

I still catch myself feeling sad about things that don’t matter anymore.
Kurt Vonnegut   (via thatkindofwoman)

(Source: seabois, via thatkindofwoman)

March 24th, 2014
Books in a pass through area, my latest obsession.

Books in a pass through area, my latest obsession.

(Source: pinterest.com, via luxuryd3sign)

leopard

leopard

(Source: ladyinterior, via luxuryd3sign)

white is all the rage, lately.

white is all the rage, lately.

(Source: modernfindings)

ruemag:

We know it’s Monday, but we can still pretend the weekend is just starting with a look back at our #FridayFavorites!  Read about @sfgirlbybay ‘s upcoming book release and fawn over Sarah Yates’ living room.

I like? Yes, I do.

ruemag:

We know it’s Monday, but we can still pretend the weekend is just starting with a look back at our #FridayFavorites!  Read about @sfgirlbybay ‘s upcoming book release and fawn over Sarah Yates’ living room.

I like? Yes, I do.

georgianadesign:

Wimbledon residence, London. Stephen Fletcher Architects.

comfy

georgianadesign:

Wimbledon residence, London. Stephen Fletcher Architects.

comfy