Sandra's Internet junk drawer

“In the 1950s, the researchers William Dement and Nathaniel Kleitman discovered that we sleep in cycles of roughly 90 minutes, moving from light to deep sleep and back out again. They named this pattern the Basic-Rest Activity Cycle or BRAC. A decade later, Professor Kleitman discovered that this cycle recapitulates itself during our waking lives. The difference is that during the day we move from a state of alertness progressively into physiological fatigue approximately every 90 minutes. Our bodies regularly tell us to take a break, but we often override these signals and instead stoke ourselves up with caffeine, sugar and our own emergency reserves — the stress hormones adrenaline, noradrenaline and cortisol. Working in 90-minute intervals turns out to be a prescription for maximizing productivity. Professor K. Anders Ericsson and his colleagues at Florida State University have studied elite performers, including musicians, athletes, actors and chess players. In each of these fields, Dr. Ericsson found that the best performers typically practice in uninterrupted sessions that last no more than 90 minutes. They begin in the morning, take a break between sessions, and rarely work for more than four and a half hours in any given day.”

—I like this; I think I will put it into practice.

(Source: , via explore-blog)

Can we talk about how amazing Florence Welch looks, for a minute? She is pure fashion aspiration.

Can we talk about how amazing Florence Welch looks, for a minute? She is pure fashion aspiration.

(Source: tomandlorenzo.com)

Impromptu Wednesday afternoon solo dance party!

(Source: Spotify)

“Even as the inner voices battle it out, intoning ‘You suck!’ and ‘Eureka!’ in equal measure, creation is—like the loosest of teeth just begging to be toggled by the curious tongue—a joyous torment, in whatever form it takes.”

—David Rakoff, in “Isn’t it Romantic,” from Half Empty

This song is almost better than caffeine.

(Source: Spotify)

stryker:

fatmanatee:

yessssssss

The list is great but fails to highlight the single worst thing about brunch. Breakfast food is the easiest/cheapest shit to make. Five minutes for an omelette. Fry up some potatoes and chorizo on the side. Fill your plate for under five bucks. Eat it in your bed. Give a piece of bacon to the dog. Look how happy he is.  
$14 for eggs with some wet salmon on a Thompsons english muffin? $9 for yogurt from a tub with some HFCS granola mixed in? All while listening to some Ashley at the next table whining about her audition that she would have nailed if she’d had time for hot yoga beforehand?
Fuck. Outta. Here. Ashley. 

My thoughts about brunch EXACTLY.

stryker:

fatmanatee:

yessssssss

The list is great but fails to highlight the single worst thing about brunch. Breakfast food is the easiest/cheapest shit to make. Five minutes for an omelette. Fry up some potatoes and chorizo on the side. Fill your plate for under five bucks. Eat it in your bed. Give a piece of bacon to the dog. Look how happy he is.  

$14 for eggs with some wet salmon on a Thompsons english muffin? $9 for yogurt from a tub with some HFCS granola mixed in? All while listening to some Ashley at the next table whining about her audition that she would have nailed if she’d had time for hot yoga beforehand?

Fuck. Outta. Here. Ashley. 

My thoughts about brunch EXACTLY.


© Copyright Ludmilla Morais. All Rights Reserved.

Always pleasantly surprised to see this photo pop up.

© Copyright Ludmilla Morais. All Rights Reserved.

Always pleasantly surprised to see this photo pop up.

(Source: lumor)

“The same voice that had paralyzed me years before on the football field once again crept up my stomach and into my throat, and I told Chris I didn’t think I could go through with it. “It’s not natural,” I said. “It makes no sense to deliberately fling yourself off a cliff.” Chris laughed at me and smiled the way he always does when I tell him about some fear that’s gripping me at that particular moment. And then, as he always does, he channeled Leo, whom in that second was thousands of miles away and probably far more scared than me: “Just jump,” Chris said. “And if you die, you died fucking hang gliding over Rio, so who cares anyway?”

natashavc:

RUSSELL CROWE IS A STAR!!

HE’S A STAR HE’S A STAR HE’S A STAR!! EVERY ONE ELSE ON SCREEN IS AN AMATEUR, A POSER, A VAPOR, RUSSELL CROWE IS SOLID MASS, A TITAN! PURE PROTEIN. WHO CARES IF HE CAN’T SING —THE MOVIE WAS A DREADFUL SLOBBERING MONSTER, THE ONLY RELIEFE WAS CROWE’S MENACING SEXUAL PERSONAE! YOU’RE FORGIVEN FOR ROBIN HOOD!! COME BACK, RUSSELL!! YOU’RE THE BEST!! YOU’RE A BIG BRIGHT SHINING STAR!!

Finally, a Russell-Crowe-in-Les-Mis analysis I can get behind. 

“The only real difference that I have been able to quantify between those who ultimately make their way as writers and those who quit is that the former were able to contain their ambivalence long enough to commit to a single idea and see it through.”

—Betsy Lerner, The Forest for the Trees (via michelledean)

This is my jam today.

(Source: Spotify)

Always love me some Marina.

(Source: Spotify)

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