they’re beautiful!
I can look at pictures of these beautiful curvy women and understand that they’re beautiful, but somehow when it comes to looking at my own body in the mirror, I suddenly focus on every imperfection, such as the pudge poking over my underwear or that my ankles aren’t small enough or the little piece of extra skin where my armpit is. Why is it we can always appreciate the beauty of others before we see it in ourselves?
Also, these women look beautiful because they are confident. I love that smile of the girl in white cotton lingerie. Confidence really is the most beautiful thing you can wear, that and a smile.
(Source: curveappeal, via sexy-yetclassy)
OMG, I want to give myself a Totoro manicure too! And maybe add in those cute dust demons too. OH, and a tree spirit from Princess Mononoke. The possibilities are endless!
Speaking of the Endless….
(via mosaiciism)
Gorgeous.
(Source: fashiion-gone-rouge, via idontwantsex)
now, you know!
In honor of #NationalPrincessWeek, here’s a picture of me with a super tiny crown! (Taken with instagram)
My new night market flats that cost only $200 NT (approx. $6 USD) (Taken with instagram)
This is so my childhood, it’s not even funny.
It’s okay, your real parents wouldn’t let you have one either.
I’m not at all ashamed to admit that I would totally eat these, or that I want to make them.
Get. In. My mouth.
(Source: akane-x)
I find that my ability to orgasm is influenced largely by whether or not I’m allowed to be vocal.
But seriously, quiet sex is boring.
(Source: sexy-pictures)
So I experienced my first sleep paralysis this morning, just a few minutes as I was waking up.
Web MD defines sleep paralysis as “a feeling of being conscious but unable to move. It occurs when a person passes between stages of wakefulness and sleep. During these transitions, you may be unable to move or speak for a few seconds up to a few minutes. Some people may also feel pressure or a sense of choking.” What happens is that our bodies usually lock during sleep to prevent us from physically acting out the events in our dreams, so we don’t pee our beds when we dream about going to the bathroom. Sleep-talking and sleep-walking are usually symptoms of people whose bodies are not completely locked down during REM. A lot of people also experience vivid hallucinations during sleep paralysis.
I was lucky enough to avoid the hallucinations. There were no faces in the furniture or shadows emerging from the walls. I was already in the middle of waking up from a dream, a dream in which I had been aware that I was dreaming, and in the process of gaining wakefulness. This has always been a peculiar trait for me, that although I can’t control my dreams such as a lucid dreamer can, I am usually aware of being in a dream, and I can usually wake myself up from a dream. I knew that I was waking up. I knew that I was awake, but I couldn’t move.
I tried to roll on to my back, but nothing happened. I tried to stretch out one arm, maybe move my hand or a foot. I couldn’t.
I was paralyzed.
I would have called out for help if I thought I had the power to use my voice, but I suspect that even then I wouldn’t have been able to make a sound.
I began to panic. But then I remembered that feelings of panic were common symptoms of sleep paralysis, and I remembered that I’d read about sleep paralysis, and that was probably what I was experiencing. I couldn’t move because I was still asleep, or at least my body was, if not my mind. I had just been dreaming, and I had been aware that I was dreaming; and if I could usually wake myself up from a dream, I would wake myself up now. I calmed down. I breathed slowly, feeling myself sink back into sleep a little, eye movements becoming less rapid, and willed myself awake.
I could move again.
And that was my little moment of sleep paralysis. I’m lucky in that I already knew about sleep paralysis and that I usually can tell if I’m dreaming and choose whether to keep dreaming or to wake up. Still, just the sensation of trying to move and failing was scary enough on its own.
A Stanford article on sleep paralysis also states that “some people with disrupted sleep schedules or circadian rhythm disturbances experience sleep paralysis.” This is probably what happened. I’m not very good at sleeping with other people, and dear Andy is a bed hog. This is not his fault, because 6’4” giants need all the bed space they can get. However, this means that he’s developed a habit of sleeping diagonally, and I wake up every time he shifts his position. Or that is, I wake up enough to acknowledge that he’s moved, and then I slip back into whatever dream I’d been having. My morning paralysis is simply the natural result of waking up and falling asleep again and again.
I should learn to start kicking in my sleep again.