Alis volat propriis.

poetdreamer: smittimjc: I refuse to blur this mans name,...

Mon, 06 May 2013 21:42:42 -0400

smittimjc:

I refuse to blur this mans name, because this is beautiful

reality comes in all sizes. and none of those mannequins are obese!!

nevver: Flyn Vibert

Mon, 06 May 2013 21:37:09 -0400

Flyn Vibert

Flyn Vibert

Flyn Vibert

nevver:

Flyn Vibert

run4yourlif3: tastefullyoffensive: [via] hehe :)

Mon, 06 May 2013 21:34:36 -0400

run4yourlif3:

tastefullyoffensive:

[via]

hehe :)

The Truth About Her.

Mon, 06 May 2013 21:29:43 -0400

theasthasharma:

She is basic looking.

She is basically looking,

for you in her dream,

for noise in her scream.

It’s not her fault,

she likes too much salt,

in whatever she eats.

She judges everyone she meets.

But loves them anyway.

And when you’ve had her,

you need her to stay.

No Holds Barred.: The Five-Day Fat Flush Regimen

Mon, 06 May 2013 21:24:59 -0400

No Holds Barred.: The Five-Day Fat Flush Regimen:

wwalfd:

Day 1: Recognize the problem.

Pinch your under-boob fat.
Complain you want to be back to the weight you were when you were 18.
He’ll say, “Then do something about it.”
That night, resist the urge to buy a brownie sundae.

Day 2: Denial and frustration.
Spend the afternoon drafting a workout plan.
Bring it home, proud you have a game plan.
He revises it: more cardio, more planks, more than 20 minutes.
Bitch that twenty minutes is enough and you hate cardio.

Day 3: Beast mode.
Buy Redbull.
Buy protein bar.
Put on sports bra and stretch seductively in front of him.
Do each exercise to maximum capacity, boasting it’s easy.

Day 4: Self-pity and muscle pain.
Cry because your ankles hurt.
Wince every time you sit down and stand up.
Scream at him when he tells you to go faster.
Apologize for complaining so much. Shut up for the night.

Day 5: Acceptance.
Beg for cheese danish at the grocery store, get denied.
Unload the reusable bags: seltzer water, fruit, granola,
yellow rice with 40% less sodium.
Admire him season the chicken, substituting the salt with something healthier.

i love this.

Wed, 13 Mar 2013 20:36:12 -0400

i love this.

lovequotesrus: EVERYTHING LOVE exactly.

Wed, 13 Mar 2013 20:34:28 -0400

lovequotesrus:

EVERYTHING LOVE

exactly.

beautiffulcurls: Follow BeauTIFFul Curls to see some of the...

Wed, 13 Mar 2013 20:33:33 -0400

beautiffulcurls:

Follow BeauTIFFul Curls to see some of the most beautiful natural women on Tumblr.

holy beautiful!

When I tell my friends I used to babysit a lot in high school

Wed, 13 Mar 2013 20:30:07 -0400

whatshouldbetchescallme:

A PROBLEM I FACE ON A REGULAR BASIS

Wed, 13 Mar 2013 20:29:44 -0400

howdoiputthisgently:

When someone asks me to explain my hot mess actions

Wed, 23 Jan 2013 22:41:12 -0500

whatshouldbetchescallme:

"Don’t make hard and fast decisions, make mistakes. Take the wrong train and get stuck..."

Wed, 23 Jan 2013 20:52:47 -0500

“Don’t make hard and fast decisions, make mistakes. Take the wrong train and get stuck somewhere chilly.Fall in love- a lot. Change your mind. Then change it again, because nothing is permanent. So make as many mistakes as you can. That way, someday, when you’re asked what you want to be, who you want to be, you won’t have to guess, you’ll know.”

Gentleman and Lady- a life lesson from a lady pushing 24 who finally got back to her better days

Thu, 10 Jan 2013 03:56:42 -0500

I was having a conversation at work today with two self proclaimed “old souls” when one said, “Gentleman don’t exist anymore because ladies don’t”. My initial thought was blind terror. I was horrified because we had just entered the elevator and I was stuck for however long it would take to descend 9 floors in awkwardly uncomfortable silence. Silence being the better alternative, of course, as the other option involved me spewing whatever the first ten offensive thoughts were that popped into my mind. As I started scratching at myself while biting my nails to keep my mouth silent and the verbal diarrhea at bay, I processed the information at hand. As it turns out, I actually agree with these wholesome Midwest gals, 100%. And here is why….

For those of you that know me (most, if not all of you) know that college for me was complete and total freedom… lonely ecstasy if you will. I did what I wanted to do, when I wanted to do it, no questions asked. I partied too hard, dated too many men, failed a lot of tests, but came out with a degree in economics, character, life lessons, and a much better understanding of myself: my wants, my needs, my goals and the person …err, lady I am. Lady I was several years ago that I’m finally getting back to. You see, I was somewhat of a serial monogamist in high school.

My first relationship was what most average freshman dream of: being noticed by an older, popular guy who drives a nice car, has all the right words at the right time, and throws the best parties in town. We’ll say I was somewhat spoiled from the start. We dated and I was instantly on the map… One can even say he ‘created’ me. Anyways, we’ll call him “Not a Complete Asshole” - most all his actions were selfishly driven, while the few genuine, honest and treasured moments we had together were few and far between lacking any real, passionate emotion. He only opened doors on special occasions, always made me feel awkward when the bill arrived, never took time in the beginning to lay an emotional stronghold down (this might have been on purpose as I was 15 and he was 18, but, I digress). Regardless, as most first romances do, it ended. I proceeded indulging in half gallons of ice cream and Doritos while sobbing and watching One Tree Hill simultaneously. Classic overly-dramatic, pathetic now sixteen year old girl move. I’m not proud of it or the ten pounds I gained in a month or so but… whatever. To make my point, and for simplicity purposes, we’ll say he’s a 4 (on scale of 1-10) as far as being a gentleman goes. Please also note that I would self characterize my “ladyness” at this point as a 6.5-7…so this wasn’t a completely off, but I could do better.

My second relationship was the real deal; love. I can honestly say I was head-over-heels in love with the man and we’re going to call him “The Complete Gentleman”, a 9.4 … only because there is always room for improvement… while my ladyness was now resting somewhere closer to 5 (after tears, my post breakup drill is, uh.. yeah). Anyways, like I said before, I had room for improvement and improvements I made. Our first date was textbook gentleman: he picked me up, came to the door, knocked, and waited patiently, phone out of sight for me to answer ((yes, women, this shit DOES exist, it is not just in movies)) opened every single door that night, paid for dinner without hesitation, walked me to my front door when the date was over and kissed me on my cheek. Now I’m not sure if my mother was peeking through the window while any of this happened, but I know she saw my face after I walked in and to say I looked like Princess Jasmine after Aladdin kissed her for the first time would probably be spot-on. Upon realization that he was a great man and that I needed to hook, bait, and sink him as quickly as possible, I stepped my lady game up. You see, he treated me so well, better than I was treating myself, and I wanted to match it. I wanted to be the woman that he would be proud to show-off, proud to introduce to his friends and more importantly his family. Thus, lady Amanda was born. After four and half years of dating, blahblahblah, the peak of my ladyness was easily an 8. When I’m good, I’m great, But, as with most good things, it also ended, mostly because of me and losing sight of my ladyness. I lost sight of being a respectable woman. Herein we enter The Ohio State days…

To describe all these failed attempts at love would take hours. To sum up, from spring 2010 to fall 2012, my ladyness was at about a 1 and the amount of gentleman I attracted was zero. Not a one… at least to me. The type of men I was allowing to pursue me didn’t help either (athletes, playboys, the occasional douce lord ‘frat star’) but that really is only an excuse, as my behavior was screaming everything but ‘take-me-home-to-mom-and-dad, wifey material’. And you know what, that’s okay. Being single teaches you things about yourself being in a relationship can’t. Being single forces you to make tough realizations about yourself. And being alone makes you appreciate being taken. Allowing yourself to be treated poorly is a state of mind only you can fix and I finally realized that a couple months ago. College ends for me this past summer as I graduated, and with it were my Slambros days. Please note, this is a process… you can’t just be a free bird for over 2 years and then overnight say “Hey, I’m a fucking lady. I deserve to be wined and dined.” Throughout September and October I vacillated between both worlds, being the free-spirited college gal pretending not to care that I was allowing myself to be used by men, and old school, lady Amanda. But, I wanted to be in a relationship again. I wanted to be treated exceptionally, to be the lady (an unfortunate, but yet very fortunate) man could spoil and showoff again.

October was it for me. I was coming off a slip-up, a horrible, terrible first date where I got too drunk and ended up crying in the passenger seat to a guy I barely knew about being hurt and emotionally damaged, and then date that truly sparked it all. In a weeks time, my thought progression was as follows: “Alright, be a lady, be lady, be a lady…. it’s gameday and well oops, better luck next time trying to make a man respect you” to “I’m meeting this guy for drinks? Really? He’s actually NOT going to pick me up? Well.. he lives far away, meet him… then after double digit drinks I’m too drunk to drive myself back home and am now crying in his passenger seat about being hurt and misunderstood?? No, Amanda. Props for going on a date but you’re a lunatic, get it together!!” to ”Alright, I’ve got 2 strikes but that’s ok because I’ve known this man for several months now and he’s different. Since he’s finallyyyy asked me out, he must see that I’m not the complete sloptard college bimbo I used to be…don’t fucking mess this up!! Be a lady, control your drinking or don’t go out at all, you’ll just be wasting his money, your time and not be able to wear that sweater again for this next month for no damn reason.” I know, I know, all 3 of you reading this are wondering if I went on the date or not. I did.

Enter boyfriend three, relationship three- “My Current Gentleman”. Our first date was exactly how it was supposed to be: picked me up, doors, paid, yadayada yes! As was the second, and third, and every date we’ve had thus far. Though it’s only been a couple months, and very very ridiculously recent that we’ve entered the relationship “boyfriend/girlfriend” stage, he treats me like a complete lady and I honestly don’t see that ending for the longevity of our relationship. (Yes, I am being purposely brief here because well, I am dating him and unlike the other two, if he reads this I care what he thinks). But remember, you get what you demand and you’re stuck with what you settle for.

Full circle: if you want a gentleman, you have to be a lady. You can’t be the drunk college girl who “doesn’t give a shit about what other people think and is going to do her regardless” if you want a quality man to chase after you. You can’t be the drunk post grad who “is just a bar rat because she has a lot of friends and needs constant attention so she gives her number out to almost every guy who asks after buying her drinks all night” if you want a quality man to court you. You can’t be the dumb ho that posts half naked pictures of herself and has hundred or thousands of followers and likes per pic and then expect a man with a career and high potential earnings to want to do anything but bed you. Yes, it is 2013 and women are equal, but gender roles and double standards are alive and well. You want a guy to open your door and pay for your meals and treat you with respect? Do something to deserve it. Gentlemen exist and are attainable; get your ass out of the bar every weekend, leave some room for the imagination when dressing yourself, HOLD OUT, don’t post shit on the internet you wouldn’t proudly show your grandma and grandpa, be patient and hide the crazy until you’ve had the exclusively dating chat. When you make a conscious decision to be a lady, to stop being a suggestive (or outright) whore, then you make yourself desirable to pursue and be spoiled. Until then, I have many a short skirt and/or v-neck you can borrow while you continue to attempt to find a stand-up guy in a dark, crowded bar with tequila on your breath.

*Disclaimer: the opinions and stories expressed above are completely my own and I acknowledge that there are always exceptions to every rule. Oh, and my ladyness currently is somewhere between “really needs to be better, like yesterday, and almost lady”.

Photo

Thu, 10 Jan 2013 00:20:26 -0500

i love this.

Thu, 10 Jan 2013 00:16:49 -0500

i love this.

When I had the choice between dignity and vodka this weekend

Wed, 02 Jan 2013 21:52:39 -0500

whatshouldbetchescallme:

When I think I've found my new BF

Wed, 02 Jan 2013 21:37:52 -0500

whatshouldbetchescallme:

When I tell my friends about the guy I'm seeing right now

Wed, 02 Jan 2013 21:24:11 -0500

whatshouldbetchescallme:

When my friends are skeptical when I declare I won't pay for a single drink tonight

Wed, 02 Jan 2013 21:22:36 -0500

whatshouldbetchescallme:

Photo

Wed, 02 Jan 2013 21:13:20 -0500