m de h-c

Two things:

I would do a product review of Bumble & Bumble’s Grooming Creme but it thunderstormed all day so my hair is just a giant humid fluffhawk at the moment.

And I am drinking two shots of Disaronno and Coke and it is the most glorious thing of all time.

Last night’s Game of Thrones sucked. Tywin Lannister is way too fucking clever to be having these long ass conversations with Arya Stark and not realise she’s fucking Arya Stark. Presumably he knows that Arya is not in fact under the supervision of Cersei, because she’d be stupid not to have told him that, or at least Tyrion would have. Secondly, FUCK DAENERYS TARGARYEN. I could not care less about her dragons at this point. All she does is yell about the dragons. Obviously no one is going to give her ships, she’s a nobody Khaleesi with a dead Khal and a pitiful Khalasar made up of SLAVES AND OLD DUDES. Jaime Lannister’s fucking boring speech about God know’s what with the other kid fucking jizzing all over him about the ~memories of squiring~ and Jaime’s shitty accent making him sound drunk. And him being so rude to Brienne!

And Ygritte begging for Jon Snow’s cock! How fucking humiliating! Fuck this show.

dragonstone:

NOT READY FOR TONIGHT OH GOD THE SANSAN FEELS.

My insecurities mainly rise from being different. I’m an only child, and all my childhood friends (and all of my current friends) have siblings. My parents were born in different countries. They are non-religious. My mother is the dominant personality in our house. My father is mild mannered and sweet. We talked things out as a family. I was not the “child”, a separate component of the household, I was part of the household. My best friend growing up was Mormon, and her father was the leader of the household. I thought it was always bizarre how everyone jumped at his word. In my house, my father was not god. I recognized my family was different. I used to take a lot of pride in that, I relished the fact that I had triple citizenship. I bragged that my father got where he is, owning his own tiny (two-person) company, without having to go to university. I enjoyed being different. Now it kind of blows.

Most of the people I went to high school with are graduating with bachelor’s degrees. I’m insecure because I’m still at my community college, a temporary posting that has turned into my job as well as where I go to school. I should have a degree by now like everyone else, right? Would that make me feel better?

I’m insecure about my body because I’ve never been slim, and slim is what society tells me is attractive. I’m attracted to slender girls myself, probably because I pay such close attention to fashion, and the majority of the women I look at are Eastern European teenagers who are waifish because that’s how Karl Lagerfeld wants it. But is it beautiful to me because it’s NOT what I am?

I worry that my boyfriend might be drawn to the slender, pretty girls he works with. The ones that go to Mexico for spring break and get highlights every other month. This is a stupid worry because he’s with me. I have scars on my breasts from a breast reduction when I was 18. I have stretchmarks on my belly. I don’t mind. He says he likes my scars. My feelings about them aren’t affected by his opinion.

I don’t think I would be happier if I was tan and blond. I could be both, if I stopped shaving my head. Sometimes I think I avoid the conventionally attractive things because I want someone to like me despite my scars and lovehandles and shaved head. And when they don’t, I can use those things as an excuse as to why.

I can’t complain about not being conventionally attractive if I actively work against it. And then no one can accuse me of being insecure about it.