YES.
Senorita Nikkola decides to bask in the sun rather than memorize these two operas. At least I will be tan. And hispanic looking.
OLE!
I’m “good.”
Seven more pounds til I am considered “perfect.”
A million years til I consider myself perfect.
What has the media done to girls? 128 pounds at 6 feet? Really?
114lbs at my height lol hell naw. I’m good now
STOP THIS MADNESS SHIT. THIS IS A SHIT CHART. Stop depriving yourself of food and health. The next time I see this chart again on my dash, I am going to print this chart, make my friend’s dog shit on it, and post a picture of it.
Oh yes, because when I was unhappy with my body and thought I needed to lose weight, I was pretty good. When I was embarrassed to wear shorts and wouldn’t let my boyfriend touch my stomach, it’s okay, because I was good. Then when my body was shutting down, I was finally perfect. When I lost almost half of my hair, I sure was perfect. When I refused to eat with my boyfriend’s family, I was the hottest girl on earth. Man it felt so good to be perfect and to cry at the doctor’s office. It was the coolest thing ever to lie to everyone I loved and alienate friends because they worried about me. I just loved exhaustion and anxiety and being alone. It was so cool to never have fun. Just perfect, really. Perfect like the way I’d take my pulse before bed and wonder if I’d wake up the next morning. Perfect like secretly doing pushups in the bathroom because I’d eaten too many strawberries. Life is so perfect when you lose weight.
Now my life is so bad because I’m not good or perfect anymore. I must totally suck because I make good grades and have friends. Life is just terrible because my boyfriend doesn’t get mad at me anymore for making a scene over food, and I go to family gatherings and talk to people instead of thinking about food and trying to not to have a panic attack. I’m just so miserable because I gained weight, not to mention ugly and incompetent. I mean, what does it matter that I play college soccer and lift heavy weights and have more love in my life than ever before? Life should be terrible because I’m not perfect, right?
I mean it makes so much sense.
What the WHAT? I suppose at 5’9.5” I should weigh about 20ish pounds less than I do. Thanks tumblr thinbitches. I thinking I’m fucking awesome the way I am.
Thank you to http://kodiakxyza.tumblr.com/ for some sweet recital snapshots! Can’t wait to shoot more music-ish stuff.
I WANT TO BE CLEOPATRA IN EVERY OPERA/ CANTATA EVER. I’ve moved on from my gypsy phase (okay, not entirely. I still am totally a gypsy) but being Queen, the epitome of Femme and Fatale? Fuck yes, sign me up. Give the asp, I don’ curr’ I ain’t scurr’d.
After silently tumblr-stalkin’ (or just… uh… “tumblin”) a lot of other recovery blogs I notice a lot of them dames is dang good at yoga!
And you know, I do yoga a few times a week, and my legs are oddly flexible, but I’ve always been into more of a cycling- soccer- running-tree climbing kind of athleticism.
Anywhom, I’m dedicating my summer to mastering a few poses and doing yoga on the daily (maybe granting myself one sabbath from it a week) so I can be bendy and awesome, have a bangin’ bod, and be just… not as big of a clusterfuck of stress all of the time.
So yes… I will start with tonight, doing some naked post-shower hatha yoga, followed by some Vinyasa tomorrow morning. (Possibly will be naked too- which is another reason why I have decided not to post photos of my process…. Yoga is better naked anyway.)
Free slurpee day. The clerk was being a dick, so my mom told me to do this while she took a picture.
I feel glorious compared the mess of misery I was in days previous, and now have spent all day tidying up,
and singing and pretending to be cleopatra around my house whilst juggling a soccer ball, and pretending not to worry about finding an apartment in the next week.
favorite physical affection.
(Source: unlikemost, via laviniaque)
Is super fun.
Man, I’m so vintage that i have tuberculosis.
