a friendly reminder: COLLEGE IS NOT FOR EVERYONE - people who went/go to college are not ‘better’ or ‘smarter’ than anyone else - there is no right time to pursue ‘higher education’ - no matter what, you are still a person and you deserve to be treated with respect
This website is mostly an afterthought. I met some great people through it, but I feel like most have us have moved on. Now, it’s like Facebook…I keep it so I can keep up with the few people who are still on here. (I take that back, browsing Tumblr is far more entertaining than browsing my Facebook feed…)
We bought a house. It’s not completely official yet but the papers are signed and the inspection went well. Half of my family doesn’t even know because I am so incredibly nervous about it I don’t even want to talk about it. I’m nervous for a million reasons. Too many to list. But this is good. It’s about time and I’m hoping this will be a great step for Christopher and me.
Things are confusing and scary and making me question so many things about myself and my life. These changes are supposed to be good but I just go from panic to somewhat calm. I’m hoping ill get to the other end of the spectrum and be happy and excited soon.
This is going to seem silly compared to most people’s regrets. But honestly, I don’t have many and I feel like regrets are something to avoid. The choices we make bring us to different places in our lives. Any small move could change everything after it. Anyway, here goes.
I regret letting my stretched ears go back down to a “normal” size. Or really, that’s not the regret because I would have eventually taken my plugs out. I regret why I did it. A work event was coming up and I was getting a lot of hell because of them from a family member/co-worker. They weren’t “professional.” They were “never going to shrink back to normal.” They would look “disgusting” when I took them out. I really liked my stretched ears. I worked hard to get them to a 1/2 inch and it took me years - I did it the right way so that I would lessen the chances of damaging my ears. I guess she made me feel bad. I felt like I needed to change things about myself to “fit in” with the professional adult world. And, I wanted to prove to her that they would go back down and would look normal. So I took them out and let them heal. They did. They look perfectly normal. I can’t wear heavy earrings, but average gauged studs fit and look fine. It’s a regret because I didn’t want to take them out. I’m ashamed at myself for changing for her.
"The INFJ type is believed to be very rare (less than 1 percent of the population) and it has an unusual set of traits. Even though their presence can be described as very quiet, INFJ personalities usually have many strong opinions, especially when it comes to issues they consider really important in life. If an INFJ is fighting for something, this is because they believe in the idea itself, not because of some selfish reasons.
INFJ personalities are drawn towards helping those in need. INFJs see this as their duty and their purpose in life – people with this personality type firmly believe that nothing else would help the world as much as getting rid of all the tyrants. Karma and similar concepts are very attractive to INFJs.
INFJs are masters of written communication, with a distinctively smooth and warm language. In addition, the sensitivity of INFJs allows them to connect to others quite easily.
INFJs take great care of other people’s feelings and expect others to return the favor. Unsurprisingly, people with this personality type are very sensitive and vulnerable to conflicts.”
I remember the bad parts. It takes a special memory jolt, but they’re there. Cancer is Disgusting. I won’t put the images that haunt my dreams down into words but it isn’t always falling asleep. Sometimes, its seizures and bleeding and pain.
He was a dog. But, he was mine. The one that I’m sure made my heart grow twice as large in the fourteen years I was lucky enough to have him around.
He stayed with me until I fell asleep when I was young. He would only leave my side to entertain himself with the grown ups and other dogs once he thought I’d drifted off. He hated it when I cried over anything but he was especially comforting to have around in my early teenage years when everything seemed so much worse than it really was. He stayed right by my side. Literally next to me, always. He knew he was mine.
When the time came, I was his eyes when his faded. I guided him so he wouldn’t bump his nose. I lifted him onto the couch and back down again a million times when he was confused and couldn’t jump up. I made sure he was able to roll in the snow while it was fresh and white, just the way he loved. And then later i stayed up with him all night, prayed for him when I wasn’t even sure how to form a prayer, drove my vet, my family, and my coworkers crazy with my constant worry, and tried spoon feeding him everything and anything I could think of to bring his appetite back. I was his.
How does a ten year old girl turn into a twenty-five year old woman alongside an animal like him without becoming completely linked? And how easily is she supposed to move on after he’s gone? This is my pain. It may not stand equal to your own but it is very real to me.
I remember the bad parts deep down because they tore me apart in the end. Maybe the healing process made them cloudy so that I could move on. Isn’t that what’s meant to happen? You remember the good times so that you don’t mourn forever. It’s human survival instinct.
I am surviving, but I do remember the bad parts. And i remember that he was mine and I was his.
“The sexiest thing in the entire world is being really smart; and being thoughtful and being generous. Everything else is crap. I promise you. It’s just crap that people try to sell to you to make you feel less. So don’t buy it.”—Ashton Kutcher (via tierdropp)