overall fun night, but some people are just downright disgusting when they get drunk and it is not okay.
I’ve never seen Dumbo
and I don’t want to own a puppy
I want to get married
and I want to fall asleep to the sound of you living
I want to write about you
and I want you to fall in love with me through my words
I want to sing forever
and I don’t want anyone to hate me
I want to have a kid
and I don’t want to fuck up anyone else
I want to live with you
and I want to wait for the moment I get to see you everyday
I want to cry every time I see Bill Murray
and the reason changes every time
I rarely finish books
and if I do, I spent all weekend ignoring everyone in order to
and really anyone who body shames.
My college swim teams shares our pool with a local high school’s swim team and today I found out that a few of the girls on the high school were talking shit about one of the older women on our team. Now this older woman is not in the best shape, but she is trying. These girls were heard making vomiting noises after seeing her and saying that they hate coming to our pool because of people like her.
There are multiple reasons why this is not okay.
You make girls think that it is okay to talk bad about other girls.
You make it known what kind of body you believe to be a bad kind of body.
But worst of all, that person that you are talking about may hear you and they may forever believe themselves to be ugly when they are in fact beautiful in their own way.
Sometimes, I can’t get over how broken I am. I just see everyone else swimming and I cry. I can’t even complete a practice anymore. I can’t even walk across the pool.
But I still try. I’ve always heard that if you believe you can then you will but I always go into practice thinking I can make it to the end of practice. But I never do.
Before we can truly love or be loved by anyone else, we must love ourselves. You must love every curve of your body. You must love the way you cry over everything. You must love the way your hair only cooperates on Thursday nights. You must love that your arms are big enough to carry all seven grocery bags in one hand. You must love that your feet are always cold and it gives you an excuse to touch him. You must love how the strange shape of your face makes you look good in any pair of glasses. You must love the pain because it means you once lived a beautiful life. You must love the veins that pop out of your arm to show you that you are still alive. You must love how you lose your breath because it means you are pushing yourself. You must love how purple eyeshadow looks terrible on you because it will keep you from wearing that childish color when you are trying to be mature. You must love how you still look good in overalls.
You must love yourself because you are different.
You must love yourself.
I would tell you that you are perfect.
You never judge me.
You never laugh at me unless I am trying to be funny.
In those cases, you always laugh.
You never bore me.
You teach me so many things.
You don’t smoke.
You don’t drink.
You’re so tall.
You talk to me almost every night.
You know what you want to do.
You never waste time unless you are actually too tired to do anything.
You like girly music and are proud of it.
You judge the same people that I do.
You are always up for any kind of dumb adventure that I want to go on.
But you’ve never asked what I thought about you. You still call me your friend’s sister. You’re leaving in 3 weeks.
But I will always be here. And you will always be perfect.
We have a volunteer assistant coach for our swim team. He is not getting paid because he is volunteering. We have an actual assistant coach who is getting paid along with our regular coach.
The difference between our volunteer and actual assistant coaches is that
The volunteer sits on the bench and texts people if our coach is there while our actual assistant coach coaches practice on his own every morning.
The volunteer just went to his first meet with us on Friday-because it was his first one he was aloud to go to-and stayed the whole time writing down our times for us, while our actual assistant coach stayed half of the time and gave us tips on how to improve our technique.
The volunteer complains all the time about how our actual assistant coach is getting paid for what he does even though “he only stays for half the meet.” He complains about how hot it is at the meet and says he is not going to go to anymore.
He is our volunteer assistant coach. He went through so much trouble to get this job and now he is always complaining about what he is supposed to be doing.
and i’m sorry but he kind of sucks at being an assistant coach. he sucks even without all of the complaining.
Whenever I read
something about true love:
I smell something
the same something every single time
But I have never been able to place that something on another something
I have only one belief on that something:
Someday, I will smell that something because I will be with that someone who I am supposed to be with for some time
But maybe it is just something