“So why do we still have to have a dance party?”
“Because they’re awesome.”
(Source: sundaystorms, via ohonestly)
2day, i h8 technology
Guys, I’m a tech junkie. but there are some days when I really wish we were living in the 1800s. or the 1950s. heck, I’ll go back to the 90s. Because today is one of those days when I hate the advances technology has made to our society.
Elaboration time: my friend tells me today that the guy she’s been seeing for a while sent her what was essentially a break-up text. UMMM HIIIII #thatsthatshitIdontlike. What? Before the advent of the text message, there was a time when you really, seriously had to consider if you wanted to break up with someone, because doing so meant sitting them down, face-to-face, looking them right in the eye and saying it was over. You had to see that reaction, and if you had a fraction of a soul, your insides twisted at the pain that sprung up in their eyes upon hearing that they were no longer wanted, desired. You had to answer their questions—“Why? Did I do something? How long have you felt this way? Can we work it out?” and answer those questions. In other words…it took balls to end a relationship.
Now? Termination of relationships is being done in the most impersonal way possible. You don’t have to see someone’s reaction to your words. You don’t have to watch them try to piece together the past 6 months in an attempt to pinpoint where it all went wrong. You don’t have to be kind to their feelings. Hell, you don’t even have to respond. Ignoring their questions? Easy. Brutal, blunt “honesty”? That’s 160 characters that took less time out of your day than possibly anything else.
It does not take balls anymore.
What it takes is any shit-for-brains homo sapien with two thumbs and a data plan.
This is not okay.
The most personal connection you have with someone just became impersonal. Stop me if I’m wrong but…that’s not the kind of connection people were meant to have with each other.
I guess I’m a hypocrite. I love texting. I love that I don’t have to devote a chunk of time, or arrange a schedule, or plan out a dialogue in an attempt to “not leave anything out” when I want to talk to my friends. I love that they can respond at their leisure. I love that the conversation can continue throughout the whole day, if both parties so choose. I love the anonymity that allows you to say things you can’t quite muster up the courage to say in person. I love that I’ve used texting to say things to guys I wouldn’t have been smooth enough to come up with on the fly. I love that I can edit, erase, and re-type until it sounds perfect, eloquent…and not at all like how Iactuallysound after four rum and Diet Cokes.
But that changes when someone uses it against you, when he or she uses it as a way out of a situation, rather than as a gateway into one. There’s the difference. Sometimes, those little texts to the person you’re hot for can help lead to more. But a breakup? I’m pretty sure that’s not considered textual “foreplay.” A textual cycle of life, I suppose.
I’ll give you a hint of an anticdote: I once had someone end things via text message, only to retract a few months later. Ahh, sweet victory. So on top of text breakups being pretty ball-less, do you really think they work the way you want them to? Do you really think that, even if you never retract, dating karma won’t somehow manage to bite you in the ass? Good luck.
So today, I hate technology. I hate the thing I love so much because, my gosh, it’s hard enough to have a normal relationship in our 20s anyway without adding a layer of mystery and prehistoric deciphering to it. I hate that we don’t have a protocol anymore. I hate that if someone dumps you impersonally, you just look psychotic as hell when you start breaking things in your house (it just works better when someone is there to actually see the extent of your rage, ya know?). And I really hate that text breakups completely cut out the possibility of one last hot, steamy, hate-filled, “love me like it’s our last day on earth” romp.
A drink, anyone?
I’m going to have fat babies if I keep baking like this #cookiesandcreambrownies
my favorite movie when I was a little lass. it’s a nice throwback saturday treat :)
WHEN SOMEONE ASKS ME HOW MY EX WAS
This simultaneously combines 2 of my favorite things: Johnny Depp and ex bashing
she has such a beautiful figure!
“They” say you need to visualize what you want. Why just imagine what you want to look like when you can work your ass off and actually have it?!
(via itstheskinny)
fabulous > flab-u-lous
Exercise has never been a conscious part of my life. Even when I was actively involved in sports before college, it was never for health reasons. Sports were either social (ballet, swimming or soccer) or for self-defense and personal growth (Tae Kwon Do). I boxed for a bit in college (the result of frustrations that needed to be released), and when I would go to the gym or go on a run, it was because my sorority sisters and I made it a “group” event. I drank, I partied, I indulged in late-night burritos. I knew I was packing in on the lbs, but as long as I still got attention from the guys, in my mind, I wasn’t TOO overweight. I started college at 140 pounds (a decent weight for my 5’6” curvy frame) and ended at a whopping 188.
What’s worse than the 48 pound gain was how miserable I was about it. My clothes didn’t fit. I wore loose dresses, leggings and flowy tops to hide my stomach. I had an entire, fabulous J.Crew wardrobe that I could rarely wear. For a fashionista like myself, it was hell. Yet, the drinking and drunk food had just a strong draw that I couldn’t quit. Or rather, I didn’t WANT to quit.
But I’m tired of that. I graduated college a year and a half ago, and I haven’t been determined enough to shake the weight. But I’m 24, living on my own, working, single and trying to embark on fabulous adventures with my friends. Pinterest is my new BFF (sort of…), and I pin these fantastic outfits and swimsuits that, at this point, I couldn’t pull off. And I’m avoiding my physical at the doctor because I know what they’ll reveal: that I’m probably 40 pounds overweight. And I still have this fabulous wardrobe that I can’t wear. My J.Crew pants don’t fit. I have 2 pairs of skinny jeans that fit, and that’s only because I bought a larger size. The rest? Don’t even think about it.
I’m in the prime of my life, and I have a pretty damn good existence. No more excuses. Working out isn’t sucky for me: I ENJOY it. So let’s go. The time for excuses is over. The time for putting partying and raging over my health is over. The time for late night burritos is SO over. The time to be happy, to be thrilled with my body, to show it off and flaunt it…that’s now.
Here’s what you’ll find in this more structured tumblr: fashion. I love fashion. I love ensembles, separates, accessories, everything. So you’ll see lots of that. I’ll be posting healthy info—news, recipes, workouts I love, anything like that. Pictures of things that make me happy—family, friends, travels, colors…whatever puts a smile on my face!
I’m just going to start being happy and healthy. Let’s do this.
Baby nugget :)
