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I thought I was super prepared for todays big swim.  I printed out my little oval graphic I have been using for milestones along the way.  So that this time I could be holding it in a photo at the gym. And then I got to the gym and realized I had left it in the printer. 

So I adapted - by first getting the final 2750 yards done and completing 400,000 yards swam for this year!


Then I came home grabbed my print out and recreated what I had in mind, except not on the deck of the pool but in the cold crisp air of my back yard.   And perhaps that is more interesting and memorable for this massive achievement anyway!

— On a totally coincidental side note - facebook reminded me that it was on this same day one year ago that I hit my 2016 revised goal of 248k yards.  I would go on to make that 264k by the end of the year.  But clearly Dec 14th is a good day for me in terms of swim goals - and also its fun to see that I swam 152,000 yards more in this same amount of time as last year!  Whoa!!!!

As for the question I know some of you will have.  Do I  have plans to extend the goal, since I have a few weeks left this year?  The answer this time around is a big confident NOPE. 

I am ready to change things up at the gym, kick start some weight loss again, and go back to swimming for enjoyment and not for the pressure of hitting another goal.  We can save committing to a new swim goal for next year!

For now it’s time to celebrate this accomplishment.

also just as one final comment, I really thought at the very least, after the amount of quite bad press this whole Ash London thing has gotten Louis, he would have the sense to try to make some type of mend (or at the very least, ignore it). Like even if you personally have no issue with your fans en masse sending death threats, at least from a PR perspective, maybe you’d want to do better than telling your fans 3 days of death threats was sufficient for this particular slight to his dignity, and he looks forward to them similarly “having his back” next time


WANTED: Luciana Magdalena De La Rosa Diaz
AKA: Luz
SUSPECTED MUTANT ABILITY: Pyrokinesis, Fire Manipulation
GENDER: Female
HAIR: Dark Brown
EYES: Golden Brown, Golden Red
STATUS: Wanted for destruction of government property, battery against Sentinel Service agents, assualt with a deadly weapon, public intoxication, resisting arrest
RELATIVES: Marcos Diaz, Brother

“Do you know how long I’ve been looking for you, Marcos? Javier, Mama, Papa, they all told me you were dead, but I knew better. Mira, I’ve been on some wild trips, but this one? This one takes the cake. Sure, I’ve had some run-ins with our friends at Sentinel Services I could’ve avoided, and that chick with the green hair seems pretty fuckin’ pissed that I crashed your fiesta back there, and maybe I could’ve not blown up the cop cars, but none of that really matters because I was right; que estés vivo, you’re alive!”


@thecurlymop thanks for the encouragement you inspired me :P

Get me a drink I get drunk off one sip

Just so I can adore you

- Adore by Amy Shark

Bel is drunk.

Well- that isn’t quite true. She is slightly tipsy, certainly, but she knows what drunk feels like, and this isn’t it.

She is pretending to be far drunker than she is, so she can do what she feels the urge to do alarmingly often these days, and touch Freddie. And then blame it on the drink.

“Freddie,” she says, then waves her hand in front of his face and says again, more insistently, “Freddie!”

He turns to her with a smile, and Bel can be honest enough with herself, at least, to admit it’s a beautiful sight. That’s not weird, is it? To think one’s best friend beautiful?

Perhaps she’s drunker than she thought. In any case, “you have a lovely face,” she says, carefully slurring her words, just enough to make it believable, at least for Freddie. She sees Lix looking sceptical out of the corner of her eye, but she ignores it. She strokes Freddie’s face. Then kisses his cheek for good measure.

Freddie looks like his brain has gone offline for a moment. Oh dear.

Bel shrugs. “It’s a good face,” she says, trying to sound nonchalant. Freddie swallows and nods.

“Thank you, Moneypenny,” he says hoarsely, and right now, Bel revels in the nickname, equal parts affectionate and teasing. This is how she always wants it to be. “You too,” he adds quickly, and then clarifies. “Your face I mean. It’s good.” Freddie winces at the awkwardness of his words, this man who is still a boy in so many ways, who usually is so good with words, sees a path through them where Bel sees only obstacles.

She laughs a little too loudly to cover up the sudden sharp and piercing affection she feels for him. He looks up at her, hurt, and she takes her hand in his, hoping to show him, in actions if not words, that she meant nothing by it.

It is only when Bel begins to kiss his knuckles that Freddie pulls away.

“Bel,” he says, harshly, “you’re drunk.”

“No I’m not,” she says, indignantly, and winces because she’s no longer bothering to slur her words and it is immediately obvious how not-drunk she is. Lix looks up at her knowingly from just across the room. Freddie is looking at her curiously now, intently, like he does whenever he is determined to get to the bottom of a mystery, but there is a bright hope in his eyes as well, a hope Bel cannot bring herself to confirm, only to crush it later with her own inability to feel and act and love the way he wants.

She feels scrutinised, trapped on both sides. She clears her throat, backs away from Freddie. “I’m going to the bathroom,” she mumbles, and flees, and pretends not to notice the candle that had burned in her best friend’s eyes for mere moments gutter out. Tries not to feel like the worst person in the world for taking advantage of him like that.

She swears to herself it won’t happen again, but the problem is she can’t help herself. She /needs/ to touch Freddie, in the same way she needs air or sustenance or news or Freddie himself, just his mere presence ever beside her.

He will continue to hope, and she will continue to disappoint him.

That’s just the way things are, with them.

Friendly reminder that on Gatalenta, it is encouraged to cry openly, and considered a sign of a caring heart, and you can be certain that Lyn cries a lot.


I always wondered what kind of person could do such a thing, but now that I see you, I think I understand. There’s just nothing inside you, nothing at all. You’re pathetic and sad and empty.

But as much as I hate you… I just can’t do it.


Stranger Things | 2.06

No one is around. Why do you think I’m with Steve Harrington?


hype man hobi