666 pictures that I like of me!
- New Years Eve 2012
- Dallas Zoo Spring 2013
- Wearing my roommate’s ice skater outfit for the 80s dance at our school…2012?
- Cartwheeling at Dolores Park in SF January 2014
- Stanley Park 2012
- Hiking at the foot of Mt. Rainier 2012
- Time 2 sleep soon
- The whole reason I was on here in the first place was to say that my makeup/hair/clothes were on point today and I felt super schwaggexy. Like I saw myself in da mirror and was like GOT DAMN fuck lemme have yah numbah
- Got distracted by endless scrolling
- lilyskinned FORCED ME (not really, I just love her style so I wanted to check it out) to go spend time browsing through missguided. UGHHHHH I know this is stupid but I have a shopping w/out buying anything problem. It’s like playing a game of dress up except you don’t get to dress up outside of the dressing room/ur mind. I JUST HAVE THIS SECRET AFFECTION TOWARD CLOTHING AND PRETTY THINGS THAT I HATE TO ADMIT TO EVERYONE B/C THEN THEY’LL KNOW I HAVE A WEAKNESS
- Yoga has been A+++ lately. Almost touchin’ tha floor w/my finger tips in line with my toes! Folding into my thighs is becoming a wee bit easier each time. Luvin’ it. Plus obvs the spiritual aspect. V calming for me.
- Gym has also been awesome. Did =legit= heavy squats for the first time in a few months the other day and got up to 150x1 which ain’t shabby! My mom has also been kicking ass and making hella gains on the livefit program. Sometimes I’ll do whatever she’s doing that day (on top of my almost daily PT exercises) and I’ve noticed that it’s actually changing my physique?????? Like I’m getting abs/shoulders/booty/legs and losing fat. Yeee
- Which makes me realize that right now I’m more interested in physique than strength atm. Like, I love lifting heavy, but I can’t and I am not in the mood to bulk again yet.
- Two more bullets: Looked @ colleges for industrial design & their application q’s/reqs/etc., and realized that a lot of this “i will never be good enough to get back into school/they will reject me b/c I am a failure at life" talk is bullshit. Like, not only could I transfer to the uni of my choice, but I could WoWWW them! I dunno how to convey what I’m feeling. Basically, I could answer their questions no probz, get great recommendations, submit a kickass portfolio, and I have a shit ton of credits already outta da way. I CAN do this!
- But I can’t blog full time like I used to :’((( as much as I luv u ladies, it really does hurt my body to hardcore be on the computer/phone all day erryday. Even 2 hours is like NO. Pain. painnnnnnnnnnn tha painnnn.
- So last one: I have been dreaming of creating a hypothetical ergonomic, movement-friendly laptop so ppl with problems like mine can
BLOG FOREVERdo everyday things that need to be done (check email, do work, etc.)
- I luv u bbys and I’m ‘mostly’ (like more than tumblr, mostly) on instapoop these days, and I’m abberlamps so follow me so I can follow u
I am riding in the passenger seat, listening to my mother talk about the ways love has failed her. I can see the fifty-six years on her face, though she wears them well. She has been called “wife” by four men, “girlfriend” by eight names she has slipped into conversation, “lover” by strangers I will never meet. When I curiously ask, “Why stay married if you’re unhappy?”, she goes stiff. ‘You don’t understand,’ she says defensively. ‘You’re just a kid.’
I am seventeen the first time a boy mentions marriage to me. We are giddy with the idea of gaining light by revealing our dark to each other. But we are too entranced by how bold shouting ‘forever’ is to know how suffocating it can be. We have no idea that we will spend months listening to each other punch ‘fiancee’ out of our speech. Or that one day, when we are sharing a bed, we will look forward to getting away from each other in sleep.
At nineteen, I am doodling in the margins of my college notebook, when my teacher says, ‘Second marriages have a 67% chance of ending in divorce. Third marriages have a 73% chance. And if you’re on your fourth, well, really, what are you doing?’ I think of my mother in her fourth unhappy marriage. I think of my father in his fifth. I wonder if picking myself up and trying again is in my genes.
I do not pick myself up and try again when I learn that I am not going to marry the first person I loved. I pack the remainder of my tiny world into two suitcases and leave the photos of us to die on our bedroom walls. I write lots of shitty poetry and tell my ghosts to ‘keep quiet’ when I think nobody is listening. The next time a boy knocks on my chest and asks, ‘How deep do you go?’, I do not show him. I say, ‘Infinitely’ and leave when he complains about the spaces in me he will not be able to fill up.
My ninety-year old grandma, with her silver hips and bullet-wound lips, tells me, in a thick accent, that ‘Nice girls should be married.’ For years, I watched her treat love as the greatest task on her ‘to-do list,’ always cooking and cleaning to keep the relationship alive. But I am too weak, too selfish, too young to carry the weight of love. She says, ‘Find someone nice and settle down,’ but I have a desire for the world that must be fed. And I am trying to first settle the disorder in my head before I think about being sharing my bed."
Today was a really fantastic day.
A while back I had the thought, “I wish I could buy all my friends a 3DS and a copy of Animal Crossing.” The more I thought about it, the more I believed it wasn’t something out of my reach. I did a little bit of saving up and made enough to make it happen.
Tea, desserts, and Animal Crossing with four of my favorite people in the world. I had a really good day.