cheap polish

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The holiday times are drawing near, and the gift DIYs are coming in! It’s really easy to buy someone a gift from the store, but when you’re on a budget and want to get something thoughtful, it’s more fun to DIY the gift!

Mug DIYs as a gift are super easy and awesome because everyone uses cups and you can customize it in many ways! I saw a lot of cute mug DIYs, but they either involved Oil-Based sharpies or stickers I just didn’t have the time to get! 

With a quick stop at the local dollar store and a bit of raiding through your make-up bag, you can make this really amazing, expensive-looking mug!

DIY WATERCOLOR-EFFECT MUGS

WHAT YOU”LL NEED

  • Ceramic mug (any shape or size)
  • Nail Polish - preferably 2+ colors
  • Disposable container
  • Tooth picks

HOW TO MAKE IT

  1. Fill the container with warm water - make sure it’s not filled all the way, so the water won’t spill over when you dip the cup in!
  2. Pour some of your nail polish colors in the container one at a time. (I used two, but I can see it working with more colors!)
    1. Note: for me, the nail polish got on the container, and I had to toss it out. Make sure it’s a disposable container!
  3. Use the toothpick to mix the colors into an interesting pattern one stroke at a time! (the nail polish is thick and won’t mix together if you don’t stir too much)
  4. Dip your cup into the mixture - I stayed away from dipping the top where people drink
  5. Optional - Use the toothpick to design with the clumps of nail polish on the mug or left in the container for extra customization! 
    1. Ideas - You can drag the clumps downward into a spiked design like the pink or dot them around into flowers like the blue!
  6. Let dry for 2-3 hours.

Hand wash these only! Otherwise, put on some dishwash safe Mode Podge as a sealant. 

The mug will smell like nailpolish afterwards obviously, but with a good (careful) wash, the smell should go away.

Wrap these mugs up, and now you have the coolest mug gift ever! ♥

IDEA:
Wrap them with hot cocoa mix (and marshmallows?!), coffee, or tea bags for those special friends!!

Looking High Dollar on a Low Budget

When you’re new as a Sugar Baby it can be really hard to find your first Daddy, this lifestyle has a steep learning curve. On top of that, when you’re trying to attract money you have to look the part. A girl who looks broke is going to stay broke. Since I have a lot of unused cosmetology training I thought I’d compile a few of my best low budget beauty tips so you can look like the expensive, luxury woman of his dreams.

There are three things that will cheapen any look immediately, no matter how much you actually spent on it. Bad eyebrows, cheap or unkempt nails and skin or hair that’s in poor condition. Keep those three in check and your entire ensemble will seem so much more put together.

Bad Eyebrows

Ooooohhhhhhh boy. There are all kinds of bad eyebrows. The good news is that there are also all kinds of good eyebrows and maintaining them can be super cheap!

So, for the majority of people your eyebrows should enhance your face but not take center stage. That doesn’t hold true for every look but if you’ve got one of those looks that can rock some outlandish eyebrows I’m going to assume you’re an eyebrow goddess and don’t need my advice anyway. For us mere mortals we’re going to aim for a solidly middle ground, they should be groomed but not overdone.

A few things to avoid: 

Over plucking eyebrows. Razor thin eyebrows don’t usually look natural and can draw a lot of attention to themselves. 

Under plucking eyebrows. Take care of those strays! Try not to let those bad boys get too crazy.

Overdrawn eyebrows. Avoid super sharp lines and block-filled eyebrows.

You want to aim for a natural brow shape that flatters your face. There tons of tutorials floating around on the subject so if you’re new to maintaining your eyebrows I suggest looking up some videos on grooming and shaping.

Now, if you’ve got awesome, thick brows to begin with you may not need to fill them but otherwise filling them correctly can really polish off your makeup. Like I said, avoid drawing hard, dark lines when you’re filling your eyebrows. If you don’t have the extra funds for eyebrow pencils you can just use a small brush and some eyeshadow for fill. Try to use a matte color that is a shade or two lighter than your natural hair color, you’re aiming for fullness not darkening. 

And remember, your eyebrows are sisters, not twins. You want them to look similar but do not expect them to be a mirror image of each other. You’ll drive yourself nuts.

Cheap Looking Nails

People see your hands a lot. Every time you shake hands, gesture while speaking, use a fork, touch someone, etc. your hands are in the spotlight. Keeping them looking pristine is one of the BEST ways to make yourself look pulled together. If you don’t have the cash or inclination to get your nails done professionally it’s entirely possible to give yourself an expensive looking mani pedi.

First things first, avoid touching your cuticles unless you know what you’re doing. You can get infections that way and that’s definitely not nice looking. The majority of men will never ever notice your cuticles.

Pay attention to the length and shape of your nails. Don’t let them get too long and don’t trim them extra short. If you like longer nails I’d suggest filing them into an almond shape, here’s handy tutorial for how to do that yourself. If you favor shorter nails give the squoval shape a try, which is basically just flat across the top with nice rounded edges. Here’s how to do that. Obviously you also want to avoid hangnails, ragged edges and such.

I would suggest always going with painted nails. Unless you want to take the time to buff your nails or just have crazy gorgeous nails naturally a few coats of polish just looks nice. The best color choice is going to vary a lot from person to person based on style and skin tone. If you’re really unsure, sheer nudes, reds and pinks are pretty safe for everyone. I like to pick colors based on my wardrobes color pallete. As an example, my wardrobe is black, cream and grey with cobalt and rose gold as accents, I do my nails in cobalt or a sheer pearl color most of the time. If you rock a certain color all over your wardrobe, absolutely incorporate that into your polish choice!

Chipped, cracked polish does not do you any favors. Cheap polish or laziness are often the culprit here and the solution to both is the same. It’s totally fine to cut costs on your color polish. It’s fine. It may be harder to apply but if you’re careful you can make it look good. The one thing that will take make that cheap polish work for you is a really good top coat. If you’ve only got a bit of money to spread around, cut corners everywhere but the top coat, you want to splurge for that. A quality top coat will do beautiful things to the gloss, smoothness and longevity of your nail polish. I personally like Revlon’s Extra Life No Chip Top Coat.

Hair and Skin Ills

Ok, this is a huge topic and I definitely can’t cover everything here. My #1 budget hair and skin solution is coconut oil. I use that shit for everything.

Chemical or heat damaged hair? Dry, frizzy hair? Comb some coconut oil through it, toss a towel on your pillow and sleep on it. Wash it out in the morning and enjoy your shiny, soft hair.

Dry skin? Massage coconut oil into your skin before you hop in the shower. The warmth will encourage your skin to soak it up and you won’t feel greasy when you get out.

Part of my daily beauty routine is a facial massage, it encourages blood flow and lymph movement and helps keep the skin glowing, acne free and keeps wrinkling at bay. I take a dab of coconut oil and spend about two minutes massaging it in small circles all over my face, afterward I wash my face as normal and go about my routine. This is also an excellent way to remove your makeup!

It can also be used for cuticle care, oil pulling, as under eye cream and probably lots of other things.

I see a lot of people suggesting exfoliation to keep your skin soft and while that’s fantastic on occasion you don’t want to overdo it! Exfoliating too often or too vigorously damages the skin. Staying hydrated, avoiding sun damage, and moisturizing are much more vital to your daily beauty routine and skin health. Exfoliate about once a week and avoid sugar or salt scrubs, they’re too harsh and cause abrasions that can lead to infections.

The final trick that I’m going to suggest for hair and skin needs sucks. It really does but it works so well. Cold showers are AMAZING for your skin and hair. Dousing yourself in cold water for a minute or two at the end of your shower does a few things. It will close the the cuticle of your hair, leading to less frizz and more shine. It will also stimulate the blood and lymph fluid to move away from your skin toward your organs in order to retain heat. This is great because more lymph and blood circulation means more cell turnover, healthier skin, improved immune response and can actually stimulate changes in body composition by signaling to your body that you need more brown fat (the good stuff) rather than white fat (the harmful stuff). Not only that but cold showers have been shown to help alleviate depression, improve stress responses, help with insomnia, improve mental alertness, aid in digestion and tons of other things. Basically it’s torture and it’s so fucking good for you. Yes, I do in fact use this tip. Every day.

Edit: I forgot to mention, a cold shower will also make your boobs perkier by tightening the skin and increasing collagen production. 

Anyway, I definitely had more to add to this in the makeup department especially but this post has gotten crazy long so I’ll be splitting that into another post. I hope you guys find some of this helpful, feel free to add your own tips and have fun making yourselves look extra fine.

instagram

Experiment is turning out not too bad~

I have a lot of cheap nail polish laying around and I wanted to play around.

#mermaid #mermay #sparkly #traditionalart #illustration #illustrator

Made with Instagram
sipping mugs of lukewarm nostalgia

i feel dreamy.

i feel alone.

you smell like good poetry

and you taste like the night sky

and my thoughts are stars,

i cannot fathom into constellations.

oh, you look like the musty smell of old books,

petrichor; the smell of grass after rain,

the delicious, chemical stench of cheap nail polish,

and black hair dye,

and you feel like effervescence,

your joyfully downtrodden demeanor bubbling to the surface,

and, oh, when you speak,

the self deprecating coolness everyone craves,

the smell of vinyl just out of the case,

oh dear.

its raining.

and i’m all alone.

listening to Lana,

and Elvis Costello,

like the goddamn hipster i am.

why can’t you come,

with your Aries Ram,

and push my scattered stars,

into a constellation.

if only I was God.

i’m not.

i’m no one.

just a sad little Libra.

in a sad little world.

i often wonder,

if the world is just a big lunatic asylum

and when you die,

you are cured.

maybe I should die.

i want to be well.

i’m not sick.

i’m not.

lets listen to obscure indie bands.

and smoke the sky.

and get high on the stars.

and get drunk on the moon.

how pretty you look tonight.

your eyeliner has smudged.

lets burn something -

just not my heart.

not again.

its getting kind of fuzzy.

everything is.

i’m soaking in the music,

and flaking like an overcooked pastry,

dry.

and stale.

don’t throw me away.

i’m still okay to eat.

i’m still okay.

i’m okay.

i am okay.

i must be.

is sadness contagious?

that would explain -

that would explain.

why everyone’s gone.

all gone.

“people don’t want to be dragged down.”

that’s what they all say.

ringing in my ears.

forget.

forget.

forget.

drink the magic water,

and forget.

everyone’s gone.

i’m all alone.

just drink.

there’s plenty.

plenty to go around.

plenty.

3

Got a new tiny Pentalic for when I finish the old one (not likely any time soon, but I had a discount), so I decided to bling it up with nail polish and cheap iridescent plastic jewels that were on sale at JoAnn in the mean time.

Tick Tock from the Concrete Block

pairing: Phan

genre: angst, fluff

word count: 2,855 words

status: part 1/?, unfinished

warnings: mental illness, harsh treatment, slurs against the mentally ill, jumping off a building

Summary: As a result of Dan jumping off a building to take a picture right before he hit the ground, he was shipped off to Obsidian Rose Mental Asylum. There, he meets Phil, an optimistic psychologist who’s the first psychologist he’s ever met to actually care about his patients.

A/N: Okay, this AN can’t be long as I have to go, but I’m very excited for this next fic!! Basically I watched the Sixth Sense and got this. You know the rest. Anyway, credits to Emily Dickinson for her poem “The First Day’s Night Had Come”, really good stuff though, check it out. Anyway, heeeeere we go!


Wednesday, April 18, 1962, London

The wind was stronger up there. His jacket whipped around his small and fragile bones, relentlessly taking the physical form of the air that struck his face. He was very weak after all, after having pulled himself up fourteen flights of stairs to get to this, the very top of the Nightingale Flat Complex in downtown London. The building was like a decrepit old dog that wasn’t good for very much more than a few simple tasks. Like water. And heat. And by water and heat, the rain leaked through the cracking and weak windows, and in the summer, the mugginess was kept in the small rooms like a greenhouse. He stroked the air in front of him with bony fingers and nodded while rubbing the tips of his fingers together. The impatient bubbling of thunder in the distance caused him no worry at all. He wouldn’t be here long. Sure enough, a cloud shaped like a smoker’s puff whisked in from the south. A thread of lightning stabbed the ground in the distance, making him flinch. From the inside of his coat, he removed his polished but cheap handheld camera, the one with two lenses not one, and quickly snapped a picture. Damn. He missed the lightning by just a second. He saw it in the tiny viewfinder right before his finger landed on the button. But he wouldn’t be too late for his next one.
Shoving the adjusting photo in his pocket, he made his way to the cement edge of the building and looked over like a child with a fear of heights. Luckily for him, there was no fear to be found. He poised his finger on the shutter release and took a step onto the ledge. He grinned. This would be the shot that made his career. Legs steady and firm, he stretched them to take a jump but hesitated first. The picture of the thunderclouds sans lightning had fully developed. With a stone, he placed it on the center of the roof and returned to his position before turning his head towards the image and smiled.
“I think this belongs to you, miss!” He shouted over the increasing gales of wind. “And might I say you look very pretty in it, at that!” Before the wind forced him off the edge, he leaned forward and dived through the air like a swordfish through water. He hadn’t a second to waste. Right before his body collided with the cement, he took one final picture before smashing into the street awaiting his arrival.

They were allowed objects in their housing areas. The regulation was very lenient, with five large items and two small items, of course, within the allotted space. Although it was, technically, an asylum, most of the inmates still had a sense of self and expression, and proudly told the place by hanging everything they could get their hands on. Scraps of colored paper, charred cigarette rolls, some pages of the newspaper, pieces of clothing, and never to forget the dolls. The prisoner directly across from Dan had 36 dolls, 36 exactly, hanging by long threads she would pull from her uniform. Sometimes, if she got bored, she would laugh like humor itself originated from standing on one’s bed and dropping the dolls from their neck cordage until they bounced once on impact without the slack and swayed side to side until they stopped. “Like mommy! Like mommy!” She yelled and laughed some more. It was almost funny the first few days he was in there, but four months in and it wasn’t funny any more. Dan had observed and analyze every person in Obsidian Rose Mental Asylum, what with all this time on his hands. Usually, he remained in his cell with exactly 987 tiles, three less than the regular 990, which he picked off with his bare hands for the purpose of smashing them into bits when he got frustrated.
Riva Sciarra, diagnosed with the very rare but possible combination of paranoid and disorganized type schizophrenia, had one scratched doll in one hand and one without a head in the other scissoring one another. Dan rolled his eyes and continued to read one of Obsidian Rose’s top secret files as casually as one would a newspaper. Something about his file, his past psychologists, a fresh entry about a possible new one, he didn’t really care at this point. Diagnose him with depression, diagnose him with psychosis, call him a psychopath, it was all the same in the end. Crazy. Retarded. They never used to call him those things before he jumped to get just that one picture, but it was deemed a suicide attempt. He should have died. In the brief second when he regained consciousness while being wheeled into the ambulance, he heard one of the doctors whisper in his ear, “You know what they do to loonies like you? Put you in the loony house. That was a real stupid thing that you did.” To which he promptly passed out once more.
He felt it when he threw one of the chips from his tiles at the wall. Air, wind, began to accumulate in the room. His resting face exploded into a maniacal grin and the camera was by his face before Riva was able to look up and see the commotion. She was the lucky one. She had the room facing the sun, which cast a perfectly cylindrical shape of light onto her floor. None of it caught on the strange man living across from her. She let two of her dolls that were swimming at the beach (she still believed in beaches, even though everyone in her head said they didn’t exist) watch the action along with her. He started spinning in circles and laughing while taking pictures from every angle, of nothing at all but walls and tiles.
“You’re right, Lisa, he’s going to run out of film soon, and then he will be sad.” Her blonde doll nodded at her commentary. That’s when her brunette doll, Kimberly, spoke up, but the man still didn’t hear her. It irked Riva a little.
“Kimberly asked you a question.” She restated to the other cell. The crazy one was sweaty through his uniform, and his eyes seemed to bulge out of his face like a lizard’s. Not to mention how they were bloodshot and very red.
“She’s all in your head!” He cried and slammed his hands onto the bars of his cage, making the entire floor shake. She frowned and drew the plastic close to her ear and nodded.
“She says that you’re taking pictures of nothing and it looks funny.”
“I look funny, you crazy bitch?! Look at this!” One of his pictures had developed, all that was in it was a blurred snapshot of his wall, with a gleam of light and the silhouette of Riva in the background.
“Can’t you see her?! Look, right there, covering you up!” She squinted but backed away from the doorway. As well as suffering from hallucinations and psychotic thoughts, she was also upset by loud sounds or voices, assumed to be caused by her mother’s verbal abuse, the reports said.
“I’m telling daddy.” She whispered. Dan’s eyes widened and set the camera down slowly.
“No, no, Riva, don’t call daddy, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again…” The volume was being forced up like someone left their finger over the button until they were screaming at her until thats all she heard. She clamped her hands over her ears and bashed the heels of her hands into the sides of her head, and she screamed just to see if the crying would go away but she wasn’t even loud enough for that.
“You made them come back! I’m telling daddy, I’m telling, I’m telling!” She cried. “Daadddddyyyyy!! He wants me to take my pants offfff!” She bawled into her knees.
“Oh shit, dammit, fuck, fuck, Riva shut-! …Riva quiet please, you’ll get us both into the Pen.” His tone reached an acme and fell accordingly. Two workers crashed into their hall, each wielding a needle filled with similar colored fluid. Milky white. Everyone in Obsidian Rose has been nose to nose with Milky White before.
“Oh come the fuck on, she was lying,” He whined and flinched then the needle went into his neck. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was quite fragile, and a very small dose of anything would put him out. Riva, on the other hand, was the opposite. It took her full shot and the rest of Dan’s to put her to sleep.

The quality of the coffee was to be expected. The beans tasted like they were the grounds at the bottom of his grandmother’s cup as she was giving birth to his mum, they were roasted as if a little kid was carefully turning it like a chicken but got impatient and threw them in the fire, and the coffee machine itself looked like it was more rust than metal. Maybe that’s what those flakey maroon things floating at the top were. The terrible coffee didn’t perturb him from Obsidian Rose. He loved the way the suit fit over his body with the cleanest thing about his outfit, his name tag reading “Mr. Phil Lester”, reflecting the light of the flickering incandescents. In hindsight, this was the least requested job after he finished university, but if he wouldn’t, who would help the mentally unstable? Because it certainly wasn’t the crash of men sitting around a board of chess, not even playing it. They poured vials of orange liquid that they keep in their coats into the coffee and down an entire mug in one slurp. This was no place to be making enemies.
Phil adjusted his collar with a smile and confidently marched over to the men. He would meet new people here, and not just make friends with the ditzes like they said at the university. Although they were probably lovely company.
“Crappy coffee, right?” He laughed and took a seat next to the poorly groomed and obviously hungover “psychologists”. He remembers in University that it was an absolute taboo to meet your patience intoxicated or under the influence of any substance. He heard a story told by his professor once that a man who used to work at a psych ward he worked at met with a patient drunk and smelling the alcohol on his breath, the patient had an anger episode and needed to be sedated. He would just stick to his coffee. The cracked clock on the wall ticked louder than usual as it struck 2 o’clock in the afternoon.
“Well, looks like that’s my cue, fellas. I’ll see you later, and I hope your patients are doing alright.” Phil offered and collected what was left of his supplies to head to Ward F: Long Term. His professors saw him off with concern on their faces, whispering, “You know, he’s the only one who signed up for Obsidian Rose”. His patient was a man named Dan Howell, a photographer who jumped off the Nightingale Flat Complex building and fractured 80% of his bones, and when asked why he attempted suicide, he claimed that it wasn’t a suicide attempt and that he wanted to “take the one to make his career”. There was a whole list of possible diagnoses following, ranging from depression to antisocial personality disorder, which is what they diagnosed to psychopaths and sociopaths. A quick handwritten note from the warden on the front of the folder read “I think you can handle it, top-of-your-class!”. And the most recent entry, added a few hours ago, claimed that he attempted to manipulate the woman in the cell next to him named Riva Sciarra to remove her clothing for his own enjoyment. He shivered. Rape was where he drew the line.
“I hear the voices…all the time…” The ratty-looking girl who must be Riva said sensually when he arrived at his patient’s cell. She had her hair down, although it looks like it hadn’t been brushed in weeks, and if it was, it was probably using her own fingers which explained the frizziness. He just paid closer attention to the hair-care section than any straight man would, okay? But he took careful notice to remember the names of any other patients he might encounter, as not to call them “patient” or “psycho” like many of his friends from uni would.
“Riva, that bar you’re licking is probably very dirty.” Phil watched her trail her tongue up one of her bars covered in…well, something black and dusty, god knows what it really is.
“Won’t you help me, doctor? Make the voices go away, ooh…” She crunched her face and put her hands over her ears.
“Don’t mind Riva, she’s an attention whore who masturbates four times a day who just wants you to look in her direction.” A bored voice explained on his left.
“Hey now, yesterday I only did it twice!” The other argued on his right. His patient, Dan, was wearing constraints chaining him to the wall like a dog, even though he was already in a cage. It was something Phil really hated about the way people in his field treated other people. Their diseases didn’t remove their humanity.
“Well it doesn’t matter to me, because it’s you who daddy brought another toy for, and even right after you scared away your old one.” Dan scoffed and turned away from her.
“May I enter?” Phil asked, mimicking inserting a key into his lock. Without a proper response, Phil just let himself in.
“I love what you’ve done to the place.” Phil commented on the sole artifacts in Dan’s room: a worn camera and a blurry picture of what appeared to be a crosswalk with a bit of tarmac showing at the top. Surely some artistic thing he didn’t understand.
“The first Day’s Night had come, and grateful that a thing…” He began to recite, “so terrible had been endured, I told myself to sing.” He did not blink as he watched Phil’s eyes. “She said her Strings were snapt, her bow to atoms blown, and so to mend her, gave me work until another morn.” He felt like he was saying a satanic spell of curse to place on him, and he felt a bit uncomfortable as the room grew a bit chillier.
“I…” He so desperately wanted to change the topic, but still, Dan continued.
“And then…! A Day as huge as Yesterday in pairs, unrolled its horror in my face, until it blocked my eyes.” He looked like he was struggling to get up through the piles of chains on his lap, but he eventually stood and kept his eyes focused on Phil. “My Brain begun to laugh, I mumbled like a fool. And tho’ ’tis Years ago…that Day…my Brain keeps giggling still.” Phil didn’t anticipate how long the chains were. He needed to take a step back Dan was getting so close.
“And Something’s odd within…that person that I was…and this One do not feel the same. Could it be Madness…this?” The chains that held Dan to the wall were all there was to prevent him from crashing to the ground, as he leaned fully forward with his arms swung back.
“That was Emily Dickinson.” He spoke quietly. Phil swallowed and smoothed down his suit.
“Okay, Dan,” Phil stated whilst calming down, “let’s talk.”

8

Sorry for the long post, but…. MY MASK IS FINALLY DONE HOLY POOP

This is Alexandrite from Steven Universe. I will be cosplaying this giant woman at KCCC on Aug. 7-9 in Kansas City!! AAAAUUUGHGHGHGHH

I have so much more left to do…. why does she have to have so many arms…

The mask was seriously so cheap. 6 bucks for the clay to make the teeth and pearl, the sunglasses and mask were 1 dollar each online, the nose is cardboard, each color paint was 50 cents, the hot glue was super cheap, the clear nail polish coat was 1 dollar so…. Pretty cheap mask overall! I’m super happy with it! My boyfriend won’t kiss me while I’m wearing it! 

If you have questions, suggestions, anything, let me know :)

Recovery Kit/Grounding Box/Self-Help Box Thingy!

So, there are several different names we could call this, like grounding box, comfort box or coping skills toolbox.  I’m going to go with recovery kit because…idk why. In any event, I made a self-help box thingy, and it was actually sort of fun doing it. It reminded me of those rainy-day boxes we had to make in elementary school.

For those of you haven’t done something like this before (including myself, until yesterday), making a recovery kit is sort of like making a first aid kit for your mental health. When you’re in a moment of crisis, or just having a bad day, you can take out the box and use it to soothe yourself. You can put whatever you want in it, as long as it makes you feel good.

I was inspired by these posts, but there are probably a lot of other sources for inspiration, too. I tried to get an item to represent each of the five senses, as well as items that fostered creativity and mindfulness. Things that serve as a distraction, funny items, reminders of loved ones, and emergency phone numbers are also helpful. Honestly, I’ll probably wind up taking a few things out of it before an emergency strikes, like my ginger and sandalwood candle from the Body Shop (which smells rididiculously good).

Contents (and the function it plays)

  • One miniature sock monkey. Touch.
  • One ginger and sandalwood candle. Smell.
  • Two mini bottles of white musk shower gel and satsuma body lotion. Smell and taste.
  • One mindfulness-based stress reduction CD. Sound and mindfulness.
  • One packet of Starbucks’ salted caramel hot chocolate (hyfr!!!) Taste.
  • One Luna bar. Taste.
  • Two containers of cheap-ass nail polish (hot pink and black, because I’m apparently tapping into my inner scene kid???) Sight and creativity.
  • Small pocket Sudoku book. Distraction.
  • One blank composition notebook and two small pens. Creativity/self-expression.
  • One box of watercolor pencils. Creativity/self-expression.
  • One Lolcat Poetreez magnetic poetry kit. (I can has recovery box?) Silly/fun stuff
  • Multi-colored foil star labels. Because I love them, okay?!?!
  • One index card containing seven phone numbers (parents, three friends, therapist and psychiatrist)

If you guys have done recovery boxes or plan to do one, I’d love for you to share them with me. You can submit stuff or send me a message with your post and I’ll reblog it here :) What’s in your box?

how the spe kids probably smell
  • Red: clean denim and axe deodorant
  • Green: extremely dark coffee and fragrant tea
  • Blue: nail polish and cheap perfume
  • Yellow: moss and flower shampoo
  • Gold: burnt stuff and sweat
  • Silver: mint and rotting strawberries
  • Crystal: hair detangler and pencil shavings
  • Ruby: fruit salad and glitter glue
  • Sapphire: fertilizer
  • Emerald: dirt and excessive hair product
  • Wally: laundry detergent and hospitals :/
  • Diamond: a pastry shop
  • Pearl: Maple syrup and cardboard
  • Platinum: extravagant perfume and money
  • Black: new rubber and vanilla ice cream
  • White: bubble gum and printer ink
  • Cheren: old books and glass polish
  • Bianca: Pineapples and marshmallows
  • N: Grass and washable paint
  • X: dust and marzipan
  • Y: Roses and fresh air
  • Shauna: shampoo and dog hair
  • Trevor: oranges
  • Tierno: styrofoam and new shoes

ayyymagician-deactivated2017012  asked:

I feel like if I met you, we'd hang out and like? Buy Star Wars stuff? Maybe paint our nails? I get this vibe from you that we'd be really good friends, man. If I knew you, you'd get some ice cream. Aw yee. Rocky Road up in this fucker.

HOLD UP! PAINT NAILS!? FAM I AM A 6'3" STRAIGHT BLACK MALE! DONT COME NEAR MY NAILS!……..

UNLESS ITS THE KIND WITH THE GLITTER FAM! NO CHEAP STUFF. THIS ISH IS IMPORTANT! CANT BE A GANGSTA WITH CHEAP POLISH! REAL THUGS NEEEEED GLITTER IN THAT POLISH! I WANT FLOWERS ON MY THUMBS TOO! FYM!

Yea let’s hang one day!❤️