I love getting clothes/gift cards for clothes in the mail.
Guilt free clothing? Yes please.
Presents at age 22? Hell yes…please.
: I know I’ve posted something like this before, but I need to post it...I
I completely agree with the last couple of reblogs! I couldn’t of said it better!I know I’ve posted something like this before, but I need to post it again since I just got done from playing a wedding.
It’s so strange seeing people my age or younger than me getting married. People that don’t even look like adults yet. People who’s voices still sound like baby voices. People…
It doesn’t. It doesn’t work.
It does work sometimes. It doesn’t always. Just because it doesn’t work for some doesn’t mean it won’t for anyone else. You have to get married for the right reasons though for it to work, although that applies at any age, and you have to be serious about making it work which so many people are not anymore.
Some people grow and change together, instead of growing apart. Figure out who they are separately AND together. You can still be an independent person in a relationship, growing and finding out who you are and who you want to be, guided by your partner or not. Many people find they are even more alike than before rather than more different. Support helps a LOT when figuring out what you want to do with your life - from friends, parents and why not from partners? Huge life events like graduating college, moving out, moving away from home etc when shared can provide a lot of strength in a relationship.
Being “able” to have sex with different people does not equal valuable life experience, and I don’t understand why people think you should need that to be able to figure yourself out.
(& also, marrying young does not always equal having children young.)Just because some asshats don’t take their marriages seriously doesn’t mean that every single younger couple is the same way. Everyone in my family got married before 21 and guess what? They are all still happily married. Patrick and I were raised around good, strong, commited relationships and we definitely learned something. We have a strong relationship. We were best friends way before we were ever each other’s significant other. I was 17 when I got married and a year and a half later, Patrick and I are still more in love than we were the day before. Just because we’re young doesn’t mean we aren’t capable of loving and being loved back.
I guess I would just rather disrespect the legal union that millions of others have disrespected to a pulp than disrespect myself by sacrificing what I am as I change. Just because the pieces fit when you’re 19, doesn’t mean they always will. And changing to form to somebody else is slowly letting a piece of yourself go every single day. So, yeah maybe I’m an asshat, but I’m an asshat who belongs to herself. I wouldn’t want to exit 2011 any other way. I won’t apologize for being naive when I was 22. I also won’t sit here and pretend that I think it’s smart for anybody to get married before their late 20’s, if then. I don’t care what you think you are positive of or what you think you can make it through. Life isn’t about making it work or forcing a dynamic. I mean no disrespect to anybody, but I’m standing firm on this.
It’s one thing when you get married for the wrong reasons. Not everyone younger than 25 gets married because they’re pregnant. Also, anyone who comments on this is going to relate it to their past relationships. Just because your marriage failed doesn’t mean everyone’s is going to.
Life isn’t about making it work? Life is about that very thing, you take whats thrown your way, you deal with it, and you make it work. This principle can be applied to marriage, divorce, raising children on your own, losing your job, you fucking make it work because the alternatives aren’t very pretty. Don’t berate marriage simply because yours failed. You walked down the aisle for the wrong reasons so it only makes sense that it didn’t work out for you, maybe you will MAKE IT WORK next time.
(via mrsworshamblog)
Bring Me Home: A Sailors Simple Request
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Mom,
Wash your feet.
Love,
Amber
I color on walls.
I love this. You should consider carving half the crap out that you draw on those walls and sending it to the States when you leave Afghanistan, you never know when you’ll get famous and people will want your first creations!
I use this website all the time when I am shopping online and came across this and couldn’t help but laugh.
Was just talking about my kitties so here…I’ll share. :)
I probably should have mentioned that it STILL isnt how I want it.
I just spent way too long on my “new” tumblr trying to get the theme to be how I want it. Ugh. HTMLS are soooo complex.
Chinese take out.
Rain. I don’t understand why so many people hate it. I love the rain. Good hair days are scarce so that reasoning goes right out the window, along with the interference of roller coaster rides, who likes roller coasters anyway? Rain is good. The smell before it rains and even more so immediately after is pure bliss. I hold it right above fresh cut grass and clean laundry. Rain is invigorating; running in it, splashing through the deep puddles it leaves in old cracked sidewalks, and the best thing is walking slowly in the rain. It’s a simple pleasure isnt it? Rain, oh so simple. Maybe thats what I love, the simplicity of it. I remember my Mom telling me that chinese food, a good book, and rainy days remind her of me. So on some rainy days you can find me running through the rain, splashing through those puddles, or maybe even walking slow through the drizzle, but on the best rainy days you can find me cozied up with a good book and a fortune cookie just waiting to be broke open.
Shades of grey.
Do you ever get in your car and hear a song on the radio and then you get to your destination and you go back to your car and you hear that same song again? This seems to be my life. It is all black and white, there are no shades of grey. I feel like I am in one of those hamster wheels just spinning and spinning and nothing changes except the moon and the sun. This could quite possibly be the worst feeling in the world, a feeling of monotony, nothing exciting or different happens, I swear if a bowel movement was irregular I would probably throw a party or something. How does one escape this feeling? Do I wake up one day and its completely different? Perhaps I am just overreacting, perhaps this is the first stage of depression, or maybe this is just what happens when you are ripped away from the only thing that ever made sense? Can anyone answer these questions? I just want a new song to play so I can get on with my life.
Everything is fleeting.
At what point in our lives do we stop being ourselves? What does that even mean? When someone says that to me I kind of just want to ask them “who am I?” or “who was I?” rather. As if anyone else knows you better than you know yourself. That is an impossible feat. No one can know you better than yourself, no one hears your thoughts day in and day out, no one knows exactly how that piece of hair falls in your face, no one knows how you got every single scar on your body, hell, half the time you can barely recall those things. So the answer to the question is “at no point”. At no point do we stop being ourselves. We are humans, it is natural for us to constantly evolve, constantly adapt, and constantly change as the things around us force us to do so. With every death, with every birth, with every tear, with every burst of laughter, with every kiss, with every bruise, with every word that dances off our tongues, we change. I am no longer the same person I was when I first sat down to write this and you are no longer the same person you were when you first sat down to read this. Change is the only constant.
The last pizza roll.
It appears as though I always start one of these out with a question, I guess you can call me the Carrie Bradshaw ofACTUAL human problems, but here goes, when did everyone become so self righteous? Why is it so difficult to simply just BE there for a friend, to help and to ask for nothing in return? I mean, what is the definition of ‘friendship’ if everything is “i’ll scratch your back if you scratch mine?” This is not politics we are discussing here, this is friendship. It is wipe my tears away as I cry, tape up my boobs on my wedding day, tell my slimy ex boyfriend to sit and spin, let me eat the last pizza roll kind of friendship. On one of the worst nights of my life I climbed into an ice cold shower with all of my clothes on, I am not sure why I did it, to muffle the sounds of my sobbing, to help me go numb, I’m not really sure, but what I am sure of is that a friend (20+ miles away might I add) drove in the middle of the night to come make sure I was alright. That is friendship and you are all sadly dragging through life if you don’t have at least one person who will drop everything and come peel you out of wet clothes and put you into dry ones, to kiss you, and to tell you that your life is in fact worth living, you are truly and sadly alone in this world without at least one of those. So stop asking yourself what someone can do for you and start putting your time and effort into fulfilling human relationships, relationships that make your heart hurt so good, because nothing will ever feel better than that.
Hey you, smile, you’re alive.
It seems as though everyone (myself included) is so quick to complain and cling to the negative in every situation. Why is it that it takes an unknown force to knock us on our ass? To humble us? I almost wish there were as many “Hey you, smile, you’re alive” signs as there are “We buy and sell your gold here” signs. There are people with life threatening illnesses, there are people who have lost their homes and loved ones to natural disasters, there are people who will never know what its like to wear a real diamond or to travel to another country. Yet those of us that enjoy certain luxuries, have not lost anything of monetary value due to some freak storm, and aren’t fighting for our lives in a hospital bed somewhere find it entirely too difficult to just be grateful and happy, and shouldn’t it be the polar opposite? Shouldn’t those with incurable diseases be the ungrateful and complainant ones? We go to a fast food restaurant and they put onions on our sandwich when we requested it without, what do we do? We bitch and moan about it for five minutes completely oblivious to the fact that there are children in our very own cities wondering when, where, and how they will get their next meal. What about complaining about waiting to be seen at the hospital? There are countries who don’t even have medical care, hell there are United States citizens that don’t even bother seeing a doctor because they have no health insurance. What about when they don’t have that “super cute” blouse in your size? Yet there are people forced to wear the same dirty garments everyday. What about complaining about gas prices? There are people that cannot even afford a vehicle (let alone fuel) and therefore cannot find a job and/or get hired because they have no “reliable means of transportation”. The list is endless and I could go on for days with examples. In no way am I saying that I am exempt from the ridiculous amounts of complaints that we, as a society, make daily but as a whole I do believe that we need to take a step back from this extreme consumerist civilization that we are creating for ourselves. We need to be happy to be breathing, we need to laugh at having to peel the undesired onions off that cheeseburger, we need to be able to roll our eyes at having to dig through the coin collection in our sticky ashtray for gas money, and we need to have the ability to just accept the things we cannot control. I guess my whole point is that we should be grateful for what we have and to be happy in the minute that we’re living in. We are never promised tomorrow, hell, we were never promised anything.
