March 2011
February 2011
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Snapshotsparks=MCspark
I felt a need for a change. Hope you don’t mind. <3
Day Twenty-Nine/Thirty
A Picture of yourself and what changed this month and what you hope will happen next month.
(Here’s a super awkward forced smile!)
Over the past month, I’ve spoken up for myself and I’ve become more assertive. I hope I continue to stay that way. I’m standing up for my beliefs and my thoughts instead of just sitting back and letting things happen. My biggest hope is for people to listen finally.
Harry Potter vs. Twilight, the obvious winner
please send this to all harry potter fans to enlighten them
Georgia State Rep. Bobby Franklin Wants to Make Miscarriages and Abortions Punishable by Death →
newser.com
In Georgia, State Rep. Bobby Franklin wants to criminalize not just abortions—but miscarriages as well. His 10-page bill would make any “prenatal murder” a felony punishable by death or life in prison—and that includes miscarriages, in the event the woman cannot prove that there was “no human involvement whatsoever in the causation” of her miscarriage.
Day Twenty-Eight: The Month You Were the Happiest and Why
I know it’s 2011 now, but I would have to say the happiest month I’ve had in the previous span of a year would have to be October. A lot of really good things happened in October and It’s kind of made me who I am today. It’s been pretty much uphill from there as well.
Day Twenty-Seven: Talk about Your Siblings
I have on full sister and two brothers-in-law. My sister, Grace, is 22. She is possibly one of the closest people to me (next to my cousin Rachel) and I love her with all of my heart. We are pretty much the same person, but she has bigger boobs. After her and her husband got engaged, they moved a few cities away and we had a falling out. I actually hated her for quite a bit for leaving me. But I went and tried to visit her as much as possible and she moved closer a year ago and we have been pretty inseperable. Her and her husband are also moving even closer (five minutes away instead of fifteen.) so we’ll probably see each other even more. Her husband, Mark is twenty-six and I have been calling him my brother since two months after they started dating. He has been a great inspiration to me and I look up to him (literally and figuratively) often. I love him very much. His brother, who I also call my brother, is Chris. Despite our often squabbles and bickering and the never-ending hate we throw at each other, I look up to him as well. I am proud of being able to call them a part of my family. They mean a lot to me.
These are my awards from Army. The seal is for marksmanship and the gorilla is for sand racing.
Now if you’ll excuse me, they’re putting me in something called Hero Squad.
“
You can stop taking quizzes in Cosmo. Here’s what love really is.
Love is still wanting to hold someone after you climax. After the initial euphoria from the orgasm wears off, you’re replaced with a sense of calm rather than a panic. You don’t want to search for your clothes, scramble to find your keys and figure out the best way to tell them, “See ya later forever!” You’re fine with chilling out in bed with the person and maybe ordering pad thai later.
Love is unattractive. It can expose our worst traits: Jealousy, irrational fears, heated anger; the gang’s all here! While it can bring out compassion and tenderness, it can also make you behave like the ugliest version of yourself. That can be okay for a little while, but love with real longevity should be like a xanax rather than an adderall.
Love is not afraid to be schmaltzy. There’s a reason why the most popular love songs are so lyrically simple. You can drown it in metaphors all you want but love usually boils down to, “You make me so happy. I want to hold your hand. I just want u 2 be mine 4ever!” You can be a 50-year-old linguistics professor at Columbia University and still find something to relate to in a Mariah Carey ballad if you’re in love because the feelings are so universal. It’s humbling, isn’t it? No matter who you are or what your background is, love can reduce you to Mariah Carey mush.
Love is an all-consuming drug. It gives us these natural highs we’ve only read about in books or heard in songs. It’s addictive. It’s what keeps us going to bars, drinking glasses of wine, going to that stupid house party in Bushwick; it’s all for the possibility of finding love. In the wrong hands, love can be dangerous and scary. If someone lacks a healthy foundation, love can kill. All of these crimes you read about in the newspapers are usually linked to passionate love. “I did it because I loved them just…too much.”
Love is not what our parents had. In high school, you never wanted to think about your mother and father having once slept with people in the backseat of cars and feeling warm and happy. That would make it feel less special and young. It would make love have less to do with you when, EXCUSE ME, it has EVERYTHING to do with you.
Love is getting drunk with your significant other at a party and taking a cab home with your bodies intertwined. You feel safest in these moments, the most secure. Entering a social gathering with someone who loves you is the biggest security blanket. People leave the party as a parade of droopy expressions and sad cocktail dresses. But not you. “Sorry guys, I’m in love! I’m taking a car!”
Love is fucking stupid. Love is fucking smart. Love is about betraying yourself, of compromising your ideals for someone else’s approval. That’s actually the bad kind of love, but I guess it all blurs together when you’re young or when you’re old or when you don’t love yourself.
Love is your significant other telling you about their favorite album and then making a point to fall in love with it on your own. Love is wondering why your better half loves certain things. You think you can find remnants of them in their favorite films, books and songs, but you usually can’t.
Love is finding yourself feeling protective over someone else’s well-being Love is being incensed with rage when someone or something has done your lover wrong.
Love is wanting your partner to cum. And if they can’t, just say, “That’s okay. I’m enjoying this.” It might be bullshit, but they’ll be orgasming in the next five minutes. Trust me.
Love isn’t always marriage. Marriage is spending $60,000 so everyone can know that someone loves you. You know what’s certainly not love? Debt. In some cases, love can be divorce.
Love is a back massage, a mindfuck, a hard cock, a pair of perfect breasts, of feeling unashamed about the cellulite on your body. Love is someone giving a shit about you enough to argue. Love is not passive. Love is “Don’t fucking touch me right now.” Love is “Who the FUCK were you talking to?” Love is sometimes hating yourself for a second. Love is hate. Period. Indifference is the real killer of love and the true antithesis.
When love leaves you, you should be lying on your bathroom floor with no resolve. You’re smoking cigarettes in the bathtub and crying about everything bad that’s ever happened.
Love is someone seeing the beauty in you and wanting to bask in it every day all day. Love is not guaranteed. We are not owed love. That’s why when we get it, we know how lucky we are and hold on to it for dear life.
So, yeah. That’s what love is. Anyone know where to get some?
” —The Definition of Love, Ryan O’Connell (via rachelenna)