If it takes a person 25 years to unearth the horror that is trying to eat seeded grapes… well I reckon that’s probably a fine life, indeed.

If it takes a person 25 years to unearth the horror that is trying to eat seeded grapes… well I reckon that’s probably a fine life, indeed.

Human relationships are really fucking hard.

Communication is really fucking hard.

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Dear shortmom

These are Cadbury Egg brownies.

I didn’t use the original type of Cadbury Eggs, because they are super gross. And I really like chocolate. The brownies have three types of chocolate in the batter (not including the eggs, which are essentially two additional types of chocolate).

Coworkers asked what the occasion was. “Discount Easter Candy Day. Duh.”



I finally took Tear Down The House off repeat this morning, and this song immediately followed.

I laughed. Touché, Universe.

I finally took Tear Down The House off repeat this morning, and this song immediately followed.

I laughed. Touché, Universe.

And over.
And over again.

And over.
And over again.

Athlete Alert






Well her tracker is super messed up!

Jess hit 10k in 47:42 (7:42 pace).

Est. finish: 1:55:38 PM (3:21:13).

15k in 1:11:28 (7:40 pace)

Est finish: 1:55:27 (3:21:02).

Girl has got a solid pace going!

Half in 1:40:52 (7:44 pace).

Est. finish: 1:56:09 PM (3:21:43).

30k in 2:26:03 (8:07 = current pace, 7:50 = average pace).

Est. finish: 1:59:51 PM (3:25:25).

12 easy Ks left! I’m sure everything is fine. I doubt she’s sobbing yet, given that her pace has only dropped a little.

FINISH! (unofficial)


8:13 pace.

Speedy girl!

Here’s the thing: I don’t really do internet meet-ups. They’re not my thing. They stress me out, because I am an introvert to my core. I don’t like small talk.

But with these people? These aren’t meet-ups. These trips we occasionally post about are long distance friends convening on a place and spending a precious, concentrated, and very finite amount of time together. 

Through years of blogging, these have become my people. Witty comments on posts became asks that showed general mutual interest in each other’s lives. For convenience’s sake, we moved from Tumblr to gchat and texts. We sent each other Facebook requests. When I eventually met each of these lovely humans, it felt natural. It felt like I had known them forever. (With the exception of Chris, who I actually had to bully into following me the morning we met in Conway, Arkansas back in 2011. “No, I’m sure you don’t follow me, actually. But you do follow my sister.”)

With these people, we create blissful reunions, and every moment is savored and treasured. Last weekend was doubly special, because not only were we all lucky enough to come together from very disparate geographical locations at the same time in order to spend a weekend with each other, but we also got to celebrate as two of our clan tied the knot.

There is still a fairly noticeable taboo against meeting people online, especially through blogging. People just don’t get it. Even at present, when most romantic relationships form online through dating websites, there is still a stigma surrounding people who make lasting friendships with people that they meet online. That said, I have never been one to give any fucks about taboos.

To me, calling these people The Internet is just a way of describing how I know them. Just like I have my college friends, high school friends, and adventuring friends, I also have my blogging friends.

I hate when people say “real life” friends to differentiate how they know their humans, because it feels backhanded. Because I met someone online, does that make them less real? By using these words, they are insinuating that the strength and impact of relationships formed online are less important, less meaningful, and less tangible than those formed by other means.

In many ways, The Internet holds some of the strongest, most profound relationships in my life. They are founded in mutualism and communication.

These humans are real life, and I love their guts.

Protip: if you attempt to climb ~3000 vertical feet, eat more than a plain greek yogurt and a banana for breakfast. You are not going into work. You are going into the mountains. A little salt wouldn’t hurt, either. On the other hand, if you’re really a fan of bonking and getting so nauseated that you can’t turn your head without wanting to hurl, then by all means. Enjoy your paltry morning meal.

"Uhhh, you guys? I’m just going to sit here. And lay down. And die."

Cons: too hot, extreme nausea, DNS (did not summit).

Pros: mountains, my dudes, the saltiest pizza in existence (the veg goes bacon!), Blizzard.

Pros win.

Ladies, if you have to ask a man, “Where is this going?”, the answer is nowhere. You should know your place, and you should be the only female in that place. Men are naturally like hunters. Once they know what they want, they go for it, no holding back. There should be no second guessing, ifs or buts or maybes. If he wants you to be his girl, he’d ask you. If he wants you to be his wife, he’d propose. It’s that simple. You shouldn’t have to ask a man if he is YOUR man. And no lady likes a little boy with eyes for everyone. Respect yourself enough to walk away from someone who doesn’t know, isn’t quite sure or is still thinking about it, despite how much you may care about them. Men always go hard for what they truly want, so if he isn’t going hard for you, you are not what he wants.


We have the best friends in the world.

michaelontherun ClaireThatUsedToBlog jbizzle329 mr-smit runningwithguts danielleruns spokesfolks

Unpictured: Beachy’s father towing her down the aisle in a shiny red wagon.