Sonja Y Garza

Red Fridays are back! In celebration of our City Connect debut tonight, repost for a chance to win this merch pack 🔥

REPOST for a chance to win this authentic Nathan Eovaldi City Connect Jersey 👀

@MLB @Rangers Viva Tejas! ❤️⚾️🧢

A Texas-sized giveaway 👏 We are giving away a new Rangers City Connect jersey just for you! Repost and reply for your chance to win!

🚨 Final day of giveaways 🚨 We're picking FIVE winners for an autographed Adolis García baseball. Repost for a chance to win!

Fan appreciation giveaways keep rolling! We're picking THREE winners for an autographed Tyler Mahle baseball. Repost for a chance to win!

.@Topps Chrome card giveaway! Repost for a chance to win this autographed Wyatt Langford rookie card 👀

Repost for a chance to win a Jon Gray autographed baseball as part of fan appreciation weekend! FOUR winners will be selected.

Remember when "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" tried to teach us about tariffs and no one was paying attention

We are the first human beings to see a Mars sunset.

Hold your babies tight for me please. Today I lost my little Dixie Wixie.

Thread of surreal sculpture details 🧵 1. Water flowing over toes

People who accidentally found their doppelgängers in museums - a thread 🧵

Endless Movie 📺🎬🎞

INGLOURIOUS BASTERDS was released 14 years ago this week. A revisionist World War II tale and Quentin Tarantino’s first foray into the war genre, the story of how it came to be is as out there as you’d expect for QT… 1/48

On this day in 1963, my uncle was killed by an assassin’s bullet. This day is forever seared into my heart and mind. Go gently today, as millions of people are working through their trauma. Millions of people are grieving things that happened years ago or decades ago, or just moments ago. Millions will never be the same again. Let’s start by acknowledging our own pain. Our own pain guides us to our own healing, which in turn can help heal others.

Was just informed that approval to launch should happen in time for a Friday launch

@KillerMike Congrats—you deserve the W

To my Mother, Denise, and Grandparents: I know you're with our ancestors, praying for me! Miss Bettie, you and Willie Burke will be proud. Denise, thank you for supporting my love of art and music. With God's grace, I'll bring home trophies as tribute to yall! ☦️ #MICHAEL

This is a beautiful letter from Fiona Apple explaining to her fans why she must postpone a concert date. I am impressed at the way she was instantly able to make the decision to choose love over her career. Indeed, the world needs more of this. Enjoy the story... “It's 6pm on Friday, and I'm writing to a few thousand friends I have not met yet. I'm writing to ask them to change our plans and meet a little while later. Here's the thing. I have a dog, Janet, and she's been ill for about 2 years now, as a tumor has been idling in her chest, growing ever so slowly. She's almost 14 years old now. I got her when she was 4 months old. I was 21 then — an adult, officially — and she was my kid. She is a pitbull, and was found in Echo Park, with a rope around her neck, and bites all over her ears and face. She was the one the dogfighters use to puff up the confidence of the contenders. She's almost 14 and I've never seen her start a fight, or bite, or even growl, so I can understand why they chose her for that awful role. She's a pacifist. Janet has been the most consistent relationship of my adult life, and that is just a fact. We've lived in numerous houses, and joined a few makeshift families, but it's always really been just the two of us. She slept in bed with me, her head on the pillow, and she accepted my hysterical, tearful face into her chest, with her paws around me, every time I was heartbroken, or spirit-broken, or just lost, and as years went by, she let me take the role of her child, as I fell asleep, with her chin resting above my head. She was under the piano when I wrote songs, barked any time I tried to record anything, and she was in the studio with me, all the time we recorded the last album. The last time I came back from tour, she was spry as ever, and she's used to me being gone for a few weeks, every 6 or 7 years. She has Addison's Disease, which makes it more dangerous for her to travel, since she needs regular injections of Cortisol, because she reacts to stress and excitement without the physiological tools which keep most of us from literally panicking to death. Despite all this, she's effortlessly joyful & playful, and only stopped acting like a puppy about 3 years ago. She is my best friend, and my mother, and my daughter, my benefactor, and she's the one who taught me what love is. I can't come to South America. Not now. When I got back from the last leg of the US tour, there was a big, big difference. She doesn't even want to go for walks anymore. I know that she's not sad about aging or dying. Animals have a survival instinct, but a sense of mortality and vanity, they do not. That's why they are so much more present than people. But I know she is coming close to the time where she will stop being a dog, and start instead to be part of everything. She'll be in the wind, and in the soil, and the snow, and in me, wherever I go. I just can't leave her now, please understand. If I go away again, I'm afraid she'll die and I won't have the honor of singing her to sleep, of escorting her out. Sometimes it takes me 20 minutes just to decide what socks to wear to bed. But this decision is instant. These are the choices we make, which define us. I will not be the woman who puts her career ahead of love & friendship. I am the woman who stays home, baking Tilapia for my dearest, oldest friend. And helps her be comfortable and comforted and safe and important. I need to do my damnedest, to be there for that. Because it will be the most beautiful, the most intense, the most enriching experience of life I've ever known. When she dies. So I am staying home, and I am listening to her snore and wheeze, and I am revelling in the swampiest, most awful breath that ever emanated from an angel. And I'm asking for your blessing. I'll be seeing you. Love, Fiona”

On July 29, 1910 hundreds of white people massacred Black residents of Slocum, Texas. It is believed that the massacre began after a Black worker was appointed to a position of authority on a road project. Slocum, similar to Tulsa was a thriving Black community. In two days, it is estimated that 200+ Black people were massacred. Only six were officially confirmed and 22 were reported by major newspapers because Black lives didn't matter. Black people had to leave their land, homes, farms, and businesses behind. Wealth is lost to generations. The African-American population in Slocum declined.

Again, just like the Tulsa Massacre, the Slocum Massacre was not even acknowledged in Texas until 100 years later, in 2011. (EJI) #FreshVoicesRise #BlackHistoryWithLana