#like how many autistic kids grow up feeling like an alien trying to fit into human society

[spacebugarts]

Autistic-coded alien characters my beloved <3

[spectrumed]

2. voice

As a child I could not pronounce the letter R. I once complained to my mother for being so careless as to give me a name that had two R’s in it. Fredrik. Or as I pronounced it back then, “Fledlik.” Cute, right? I was a cute child, all blonde and with big blue eyes. At one point, I got surrounded by a group of older girls who forced me to pronounce my name, even though I really couldn’t. They laughed and laughed, teasing me for my inability to pronounce even my own name correctly. If I ever had a reason to develop a fetish for femdom, I think this would have been it.

Like it or not, in speech, there is no room for individual quirks. No, we’ve all got to learn how to speak properly. Historically, that has led to some pretty heinous attitudes towards regional accents, any tongue that was the standard was seen by default as being less or developed and intelligent. Regional accents were seen as practically unhygienic, the worry being that if people just got to speak as they wished, they might end up potentially thinking dangerous thoughts. While I understand the importance of being understood, it’s clear that the stigma that exists around speech difficulties stems from a place of prejudice. If a person has a lisp, do you really struggle to understand them? And while stammering can be quite debilitating, it should be blatantly obvious that shaming people who stammer, suggesting that they are bereft of intelligence, is not the way to help them. Humans are social animals, and language may be the one thing that distinguishes us as a species, it is natural that proper elocution should be treasured. But some people do struggle with their speech, and that should not cost them any respect or kindness.

As a child, I didn’t speak nearly enough. As an adult I am speaking too much. That’s the problem with you, Fredrik, you’ve never understood that there is a middle ground between two extremes. There is a way you can speak that is neither too quiet, nor too loud. It is how normal people speak. Why can’t you be normal, Fredrik? Are you going to spend this whole blog post talking about how difficult it is for you to simply learn to be like everyone else? Self-pitying yourself, much? Back in my day people pulled themselves up by their bootstraps, if they had something they struggled with, they learned to sort it all out, and they didn’t start complaining about society being all mean to them. You’re just spending too much time inside your own head, go take a swim, take up a hobby that requires you to step outdoors, it will serve you well. Don’t be a freak, Fredrik. Be normal, for once.

On a side note, “pulling yourself up by your bootstraps” is meant to be understood as an impossible feat. You can’t possibly pull yourself up by your bootstraps, it’s ludicrous to even suggest that such a thing may be feasible. While, yes, there are many things you can do to help yourself, ultimately, you can’t profoundly escape from a sorry situation you’ve found yourself in without some outside help. There is no shame in requiring help. To guilt someone into thinking that if they can’t do it alone, they are weak, is frankly sociopathic. Humans need each other, we take care of each other, we are there for each other. Self-sufficiency is great, but let’s not take it to levels of absurdity by suggesting that needing help from others is anything but normal. No-one succeeds in life without others there to prop them up. Instead of telling someone to pull themselves up by their bootstraps, you might as well tell them to go and swallow the sun, which is clearly another impossible task.

Most people will never in their lives experience what it is like to go through a neuropsychological evaluation. Turns out that it is not always such a pleasant experience. Though, considering the popularity of pseudo-scientific nonsense like the Myers-Briggs test, I am sure some folks would lie and pretend to love it. Certainly, there is a charm to being there and talking about yourself for several hours near-uninterrupted, but the exhaustion that you will feel at the end of it cannot be understated. Naturally, it does vary between who does it, and why they’re doing it. But if the stated goal is to find out whether you’ve had a neurodevelopmental disorder since you were but a young babe, then of course, there are going to be some pretty long conversations happening about those early days. Lots of stuff you may not have considered or thought about in a very long time will suddenly become very relevant to your current situation. And at the end of it all, you get some papers detailing your fashionable new diagnosis. Your entire life, all written down. Can make you feel rather wistful. And there’s really quite a surprising amount of typos included in the text, and barely any jokes.

Still, as part of my official diagnosis, there is a reference to my speech at being at times “stilted.” Though, the diagnosis does take very good care to mention that I appear intelligent and thoughtful, exhibiting a wide vocabulary and a good sense of the right words to use at the right moment. It’s flattering, for the most part. Yet, it does irk me that I could be perceived as being stilted. I know that at this point, I am being petty, because who cares if I sometimes come across as maybe a little robotic. I’ve got Asperger’s. Of course I am a robot. The closest role model we folks with Asperger’s ever had for the longest time was Star Trek: The Next Generation’s android named Data. God forbid anyone like me ever turned out to be the protagonist of a series, we’re all doomed to play the part of the robot, the alien, or the socially awkward geek. I should just be delighted that I am high-functioning. I know how much worse some have it. I should be grateful and pleased that I come across as mostly normal, mostly neurotypical. But… I really just don’t want anyone to think my speech is stilted. I don’t want to be Data. I want to be Riker.

It is never enough, you’ll never be good enough. If you fake it, they’ll see through it. If you struggle and if you work honestly to appear more normal, they won’t recognise it. As soon as they get an inkling you may be an imposter, looking like them, but having a neurologically deviant brain, they’ll single you out. For you, normalcy is an illusion. To attempt to be normal is to remake yourself only to receive nothing. Sure, you can be disingenuous, pretend you're not yourself, but it’ll never fool them. In the end, you’ll only lose yourself. Maybe I should just own the fact that my speech sometimes comes across as being stilted. Maybe I should own it. Be proud of who I am. But… sometimes I just don’t want to be me.

I want to be ignored. Sometimes, not always. But that goes for everyone. But most of all, I’d like to be able to go unseen whenever I’m not trying to impress anyone. When I’m just off to buy some milk. When I’m sitting on the bus. When I’m walking through the park. I know it is partly paranoia, but I can’t help but feel like I stick out. It’s always been like that with my friends growing up. The metaphor I used with my therapist is that I felt like a thumb. That they, my friends, were the fingers and I was the thumb. Sure, we’re similar. In many ways we’re the same. You could even say that I was crucial to making the social dynamics work. Who doesn’t like the thumb? What would you do without your thumb? But still, I was different. Some people would do anything to be different like that, to feel special. Some folks feel all invisible and forgotten in the crowd, and I’d lie if I told them that I didn’t envy them sometimes. The ability to go all invisible? That seems swell! There’s this question people like to ask as a sort of personality test. If you could choose a superpower, would you rather be able to fly, or would you rather be able to go invisible? The answer is obvious, as far as I’m concerned. Of course I’d love to be able to go invisible. To be able to exist without anyone seeing me. Without anyone judging me. Without ever having to worry if someone is going to treat me as different. For a moment to feel what it is like not to be some big, dumb, stupid, thumb.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not too anguished. Nowadays, I feel like I am in a relatively good place. But I would be lying if I told you that I still don’t get frustrated at the plethora of difficulties I face just trying to blend in. Even with family members, people who are supposed to know you the best, even then I have to go out of my way to behave a certain way, to exist a certain way, because fundamentally, they just don’t seem to get you. Not in that way. They have an image of you that you need to try and match. It doesn’t matter how many times I tell them that sometimes you need to be more direct in your communication to truly reach me, I don’t pick up on the many smaller little social cues they may throw my way, it’s still just me being silly and looking for excuses for why I didn’t understand them the first time around. And I am deathly afraid of hurting anyone’s feelings. A very prevalent misconception about autistic individuals is that we don’t care if we’re being rude. That if we are rude, our rudeness can simply be overlooked because, y’know, we’re autistic. While this sort of thing is commonly represented in media that is supposed to depict autistic characters, in real life, things don't quite work like this. Believe it or not, readers, being autistic is not a free pass to act like a dick. Autistic individuals still very much have to modulate our behaviour if we wish to fit in and be accepted. No-one will ever excuse you for being autistic. To be autistic is living with extra hurdles in your way, thinking that it’s anything but a social handicap is romanticising a diagnosis you clearly know very little about.

When I was a kid, I didn’t speak much. As far as I was concerned, I merely spoke whenever I needed to speak. It took until adulthood for me to learn that my parents and teachers were actually concerned about that. I was made to see a specialist, under the guise of learning elocution, but I’ve later come to realise that those meetings were about more than just learning to pronounce the letter R. Like, what does testing my memory have to do with diction? Yes, her job was partly to help my speech develop more in line with the other kids, but she was also there to evaluate whether or not I was intellectually disabled. I have come to learn that I had teachers at the time that were adamant about me going to a different school, more equipped to handle kids like me, but my mother vehemently defended my right to stay in the school I was in. After all, I did have friends, and to anyone who really knew me, they knew that I was a bright child. Sure, I wasn’t as communicative as the other children, but I clearly had no issues processing information, and it’s not like I was disruptive in some other way. But that was also part of the problem. The teachers that thought that I may need specialist schooling were concerned about the fact that I was too placid and too agreeable. They wanted me to express frustration at my lacking pronunciation, to see me get mad at others for not fully understanding me. That amazes me, if anything. The fact that I was a happy kid they took as some indication that I wasn’t quite right.

My mother delights in a memory of me as a kid once slamming my fist on the table and declaring that “now, I am speaking!” May I remind you that I was a cute kid. Sure, it is the sort of behaviour that parents of the old times would have spanked their kids for. Kids in the past were supposed to be quiet. To be seen, but not heard. I wonder if there’d be any kind of hubbub about my early development if I lived back then. I’d probably be seen as the ideal child, all pretty and docile and never too loud. Still, it was a moment my mother cherished, because for once, I really proved that I did have the capacity to speak. Though, I still couldn’t pronounce my R’s. But it was time for Fledlik to speak.

[loosenedidylls]

Blessings, Curses, Autism

My earliest memories are of waiting rooms with musty carpets and buckets of donated, broken toys. I guess it was worse for my parents, who had nothing to stare at but walls and trashy lifestyle magazines. Eventually, the professionals decided I had a condition called Asperger’s Syndrome, and there was one thing they wanted me to understand:

“It’s a blessing, not a curse.”

If someone asked me to list blessings off the top of my head, I’d mention 20/20 vision, pitch-perfect hearing, or George Foreman’s chin — not a neurological disorder that transforms the most natural stages of personal development into a confusing struggle. In hindsight, I would have preferred more concrete advice than ‘it’s a blessing, not a curse.’ Something like:

“Watch out for the train!”

…But the quippy slogan is what stuck. My parents dispensed it like a cheap plaster, and I still don’t know whose benefit it was for — mine, or theirs. What I do know, is that I never once believed them: I felt I was being brushed aside, or told to accept something blatantly untrue. Besides, children don’t care to question whether they’re blessed or cursed, so it was an answer to a question that hadn’t been asked. Existentialism is for adults trying to make the best of a bad situation.

Being an Autistic Child.

Autism is not a superpower. Thanks to certain pieces of popular media, you might think of autistic people as quirky-yet-brilliant detectives, awkward-yet-sexy hackers (always female), or nonverbal children with a deep, instinctive connection to whatever animal or alien the protagonists are trying to communicate with. Often, people with severe autism are plot devices in the same vein as a forbidden orb or set of nuclear launch codes. Instead of damsels waiting for Bruce Willis to save them, they’re objects waiting for Bruce Willis to understand them.

A lot of autistic people are brilliant academically, though not for the reasons you might think. A common feature of autism is hyper-fixating on ‘special interests’, obsessing over a subject until one has learned everything about it, before moving on to the next. Very few people become maths geniuses this way; more often they become diehard Sonic fans or start giving lots of money to Games Workshop. Here are a few of the phases I went through:

-          Thomas the Tank Engine.

-          Pokémon.

-          Old English monster myths.

-          Naruto.

-          Peter Jackson’s King Kong (both the movie and the video game).

-          Bleach (the anime, thankfully, not the cleaning product).

Fairly normal interests for a young person, right? Now remember the hyper-fixation part. People with Asperger’s tend to focus on certain interests at the expense of others, and those ‘rejected interests’ are usually vital for social development. Now remember that high school is a psychopathic hellscape crawling with cruel little monsters ready to vent their newfound territorial instincts on anyone who doesn’t fit in. The kid who wants to discuss the depiction of brontosauruses in a sort-of-okay remake of a 1933 movie isn’t doing himself any favours — constant bullying drives him even deeper into reclusive interests and solitary hobbies, and from there, it’s the luck of the draw whether those hobbies resonate with any of the kids around him.

I’ve always known a lot about things no one knows about, and nothing about things everyone knows about. This, along with the fact that a lack of social life makes it easy to focus on one’s studies, creates the illusion that some autistic kids are eccentric geniuses-in-the-making. Parents — especially the parents of autistic children — are quick to latch onto any display of intelligence. They watch intently for any sign their long struggle is paying off, and when it happens, they praise their child endlessly, reinforcing behaviour patterns both good and bad. Because adults told me I was intelligent, I told other children I was intelligent, and you can imagine how well that went.

This misapprehension — confusing a bunch of random trivia for genius — followed me into high school, hurting me all the while, which is ironic, because it was the only positive way I could think about myself.

I’m lucky to have found books and writing as lifelong passions, but that almost didn’t happen; in fact, I used to despise any writing task the teacher set for me, to the point of outright refusing to do the work. In my defence, I was trying very hard to be somewhere else at the time — mentally, that is. The idea of putting my feelings on paper, for all to see? I couldn’t conceive of anything more terrifying.

Harry Potter changed things. I was gifted The Deathly Hallows when it was first published, and even though I had no idea what was going on in the story (I hadn’t even seen The Order of the Phoenix yet), I thought it was wonderful — maybe because I was getting a sneak peek into a future movie. Since then, I’ve always had a book close at hand, and it wasn’t long before I started writing my own novels (more on those another time).

 Voracious reading was, technically, another un-social activity that would consume my waking hours, but at least it was productive. My grades improved dramatically. I got good at writing essays. I became better at expressing myself, and I started to consider other people’s points of view. I made friends, lifelong bonds. I wouldn’t say I was happy at that stage of life — bullies tend to push back against things like improved mental health — but at least I was growing.

Looking back, I can’t help but wonder how close I came to disaster. I was 13 or so. If I’d left it any later, I doubt the outcome would have been so peachy. There are plenty of autistic adults with no friends, no employable skills, no human contact but ageing parents and rare, fleeting therapy sessions. Many of these people are quirky and brilliant, but there’s no happy ending for them.

Being an Autistic Adult.

Autism never goes away. It never gets ‘better’. It isn’t curable because it’s not a disease, despite what the vaccine deniers might tell you; autism is an intrinsic part of my neurological makeup, and living with it is a process of compromises.

I had to accept, early on, that I’m not the same sort of human being as the people around me. My brain is a different brand of brain: it makes different connections, processes different bits of data at different speeds. Things that seem obvious to you, need to be explained to me. I struggle to read a room, and I’m never quite sure if the person I’m talking to would really rather I shut up.

Put simply, my childhood experiences made me keenly aware of myself as an outsider. I need to watch for people’s reactions to anything I say or do, all the while navigating a maze of social cues and left-unsaids — but sooner or later, I’m always going to slip up. When you are differently-brained, it’s easy to misinterpret instructions, or to misjudge which thread of discussion is most important; and when you’re processing so much data at any one time, small-yet-vital points are going to slip under the radar. The result is being told off, being laughed at (‘laughing with you, not at you’ is another fun slogan I’ve learned to endure), and generally feeling stupid or useless for overlooking one point of data among hundreds.

 As I grew into an adult, I got better at performing normal. Nowadays, only those who spend a lot of time around me can spot the signs of my condition: I seem confident, funny, sympathetic, and I make friends easily. As I write this, I can’t help but feel uneasy: it makes me wonder, and not for the first time, how much of my personality is genuine. In high-stress situations, the generic piece of advice is ‘relax and be yourself.’ Succeeding in life as an autistic person means learning not to be yourself, or at least creating a version of yourself that can exist in public — so, where does the real me end, and the performance begin? Are they one and the same? I’ll never know the answer to that question.

Being an autistic adult, then, means pretending I’m not autistic for the benefit of other people. It’s a lifelong, often exhausting performance, and the temptation to retreat into my shell is ever present. But, just like anyone else, I long for human contact, so the compromise is a necessary one.

Blessings & Curses: Redux.

Terry Pratchett wrote that humans need to learn to believe the little lies so they can believe in big ones. There’s something I wish I knew during the bad years; that I was far from the only person suffering from my condition. My parents were stumbling in the dark just like me, except they had to pretend everything was under control.

My dad confided in me, recently, how he used to cry — a lot — during those days when I would return from school after another worst day of my life, talking about footballs thrown at my head, being cornered and verbally abused, or being removed from class after another tantrum. These were practically daily occurrences, and they’ve left their lifelong marks on me, but I’ve never lacked for brilliant people willing to help, people who were alongside me in my suffering. Raising a child is hard, and raising a neurodivergent child is even harder. Can I blame my parents for wanting to believe in blessings, and not curses?

Most of the time, those bad years seem like a distant memory. I don’t see autism as my blessing or my curse; it’s just a part of me — a frustrating, limiting, often embarrassing part of me, but one just as vital as my eye colour or ethnicity. I’ve come to accept it and be content despite it, and I suppose that’s the best outcome I could hope for.

[kokoinupi]

Jitterbug (Hashiya Nanashi, feat. Hatsune Miku & MEIKO) analysis, from an autistic point of view

Disclaimer: This is based on my personal experience growing up with autism, and the experiences of the people around me. This song is also really gay by nature, so if MikuMei isn't your thing, this is your warning. Obviously this is in no way any sort of official analysis, and actually, ironically due to my autism, I may misinterpret some things or have a hard time not taking lines literally, so don't get mad at me if I get something clearly wrong. I'm just very passionate about this interpretation, and this song comes very close to representing a real (canon) autistic experience. No one else seems to comment on it from that point of view though, so naturally I had to write this up! This is also my first full analysis, and I'm not good at being concise, so please bear with me!

[[MORE]]

Overview: The video, for me, is a major factor in how Jitterbug comes across as an autistic narrative. The name itself, while it is still a reference to a 1920s dance (befitting of the electroswing style of the song), doubles as a meaning for someone who can't sit still, and actually on a personal note was an affectionate nickname my family called me as a kid, so that tipped me off right away. All throughout the video, I noticed most of all, the way Meiko moves her hands while she dances is very close to stimmy behavior, not really like how a neurotypical would normally dance (nor is it a part of the jitterbug itself). While Meiko is moving her hands like that, Miku very often has something in her mouth, either a kind of stick, or the laser pointer, definitely suggesting an oral fixation. Of course, both girls obscure their eyes with sunglasses (I think Meiko's aviators look so cool), and while that definitely has some metaphorical meaning as others have pointed out in their analyses of the song, it's really not uncommon for autistic people to wear shaders and/or noise dampeners to combat overstimulation and sensory issues. None of these things on their own prove anything, of course, as the video is often a small part of a song's meaning, so let's dive into the main course!

Lyric analysis:

I can't talk about any wishes, nor my ideals

Giving out the same, invariant answer all the time

For being the first line in this song, this really already punches home the idea that Miku is dissatisfied with herself, and, as is often the case with autistic people, doesn't even know how she's supposed to navigate the world. She either doesn't know her aspirations in life, or doesn't know how to talk about them without being judged.

You don't need a rotten yesterday

Dump it before you get betrayed

Meiko, being the free spirit in contrast to the masking, frustrated Miku, assures her that she can't just hold onto bad things that happened, being judged or not knowing herself, she needs to dump her perfectionist tendencies and learn to live as herself a little before her own precariously-built persona comes crashing down on her.

Just fully utilize it, tame it

Can't give it away nor dye it tomorrow

I'm fully ready

Meiko tells Miku that she has to learn to work with herself the way she is, find her talents and use them fully, rather than constantly trying to change or push her feelings deep down. She can't give away her personality, and she can't truly make herself different inside, no matter how hard she masks on the outside.

Hungry critics that can't even move

are just glancing at you sideways

The people who would judge Miku for who she is are just hungry for something to laugh at, someone to other or exclude, but when it comes down to it, they're no real threat. If she can just get over that initial hurdle, she'll realize her haters are just pathetically lapping at any entertainment they can get, and they're really not that scary at the end of the day.

Who cares! Ignore those idiots

Given this is the first line they sing together, it almost feels like an admission on Miku's part, she wants to believe Meiko and stand up for herself for once, even if it is just among them for now.

Come at nights, grab my hand and dance

The girls are obviously fond of each other (just gals being pals), and in a way, understand one another on a deeper level than other people understand them, having similar neurotypes. Dancing itself is sort of a wild, energetic activity, that can help express a wide variety of pent-up emotions, and the jitterbug itself is a pretty manic dance that fits the image rather well.

Use your eyes only for me and let's light it up,

Your one and only, scorching laser light

This line is honestly just gay. I don't think there's any deeper meaning to the laser light specifically, but it is a cute thing to call your funky spunky girlfriend, isn't it? It actually may be a reference to how Miku really is on the inside, bright and strange, and often blinding and scorching to others. She hides that side of her pretty well normally, but with Meiko it's not only fine to be bright and weird and full of personality, but actually encouraged.

Fitfully ranking things and aligning them vertically

Abandoning my heart, I convert them to numbers out of impulse

Honestly, upon my first translated listen of this song, I didn't think absolutely anything autistic was happening until this line hit me. This is so autistic in nature, I'm surprised that a lot of analyses leave it out. Miku not only sees the world in sets and orders and numbers like many autistics do, but actually feels (most likely from outside influence) that by her brain being wired to see the world like that, she's abandoned her humanity and become a robot.

The magic gradually faded out

Instead, pessimism flowed in and was entrenched

I'm taking a little liberty here, but many autistics with savant syndrome (and/or gifted kid syndrome) are praised in their youth for the amazing things they can do, such as doing complex math quickly or reading at a faster speed than their peers, but later in life, when those skills are either no longer relevant or have averaged out, the things they used to be praised for become seen as annoying, not something to brag about, or a burden. Miku no longer sees the way her brain works as magical and special anymore, it's a curse and proof to her that she's not like the people around her.

Struck speechless by the awful scenery,

Very clearly overstimulation.

I linger in the raining streets, soaked from head to toe

Some wait for the sun, some grumble about the rain

All pointing at me inside their umbrellas

This line could very well be taken literally, but it's most clearly just a way of describing how different Miku is truly. She doesn't see the same things as bad as other people, she doesn't see the same things as good either. She could be the type that embraces darkness in life, both literally and figuratively. People may not actually point, but she can feel eyes on her, and it makes her feel even more alienated. Even when she tries so hard to fit in, there are some parts of her that are too obvious to change, and she knows she draws attention anyway.

Who cares! Ignore them right now

Let's smile, choose my hand and sing

Feel the rhythm with your heart and dance

I'm not sure exactly why, but the line about feeling the rhythm with your heart made me feel really connected to the song. It might just be because of my own personal music stim habits, but either way it's another line about leaving behind your facade, being as true to your nature as possible, and just dancing out your worries to the beat of the song.

On this rainy stage, as bright as the scorching light

This line embraces the idea of Miku preferring the rain. No one else has to like the stage they set for themselves, because when they're together, it's just about them and what they want to do. Miku can soak herself in rain and bright, scorching light, and just exist with no one around to point and stare.

Eyes go dim and words are lost

While this can just be a reference to depression in general, it's worth noting that many autistics have trouble showing expressions, and/or go nonverbal, often in response to stress or unusually upsetting circumstances.

The colors of today have faded out

Still, it couldn't end because of someone

This can be a way of insinuating that Miku is actually suicidal due to how she's seen by others, and Meiko is the one thing keeping her here, or it could just mean that Meiko stopped her days from getting too bad in a moderate sense. Either way, pretty gay, and shows more how much the girls depend on each other in mutual understanding.

Who cares! Ignore those idiots!

Come at nights, dance and grasp your aspirations

Referring back to the first line, Meiko does assure Miku that not everything needs to be worked out for others' sake, but by spending time with your true self and unpacking your feelings, the future you're supposed to have and the things that truly make you happy will become clear.

I shall dedicate my entire life to you

Let's shine on, like the scorching light

Reach your hands out, until the very end

Miku is in lesbians with her. Ending the song on such a gay note is never a bad thing of course, but it is a little anticlimactic for this analysis. Though, the line of reaching your hands out might actually refer to their hand movements in the video, symbolizing to keep being weird and authentic as long as you can, but that may be a bit of a stretch (or a reach, if you will)

Final thoughts: I have seen other analyses (though not as in-depth) about the meaning of the song, and while they definitely do have some meaning and I can see it from that point of view, there are just some obviously autistic cues that I couldn't ignore that just swayed my perception of the song entirely that direction. I'm not sure if I only picked up that meaning because of my own experiences biasing my view, or if I actually am onto something with the original intention of the song. If you guys have any insight to offer on any of the lyrics, or if I missed or misinterpreted something, feel free to let me know! Thanks for reading this far, honestly! 🌸

[marxsgrandson]

“You’re not Russian, you’re just American with some Russian blood”- my Israeli PS professor (who is neither Russian nor American nor knows anything about me)

Long post ahead: read it if you’d like but mostly just hoping there’s someone else who can relate to the feelings I’m about to express. So here goes:

Had an unbelievably shitty day today.

I’m in this one political science class. It always ends up somehow ruining my mood. It’s the one with the shitty German men who confronted me in a group after class accusing me of being uncritical towards the Soviet Union, being an antisemite (lol these aryan guys were calling me an antisemite. Like they’re confirmed non-Jewish) and being a dumbass for not idk sucking Gorbachev’s dick personally would be the next leap there. Idk if I posted that here, but it’s necessary context.

Anyways today we were talking about Russia’s motive in x place and just jumping around to every unrelated topic about something about Russia because our class always gets sidetracked and never finishes the lesson we were supposed to do. And of course the Europeans were being pieces of shit.

And the prof said something like “I wish we had Russians in the class to offer maybe a Russian perspective too... like gosh that would be nice. Do we have any Russians?” And I sort of tentatively raised my hand half way because I’m half Russian and when she was looking around the room and didn’t see me, I said “I’m half Russian and this is actually something I heard and talked a lot about growing up, I could take a try at it”

“You’re not Russian, you’re just American with a little Russian blood” she said, dismissing me entirely as the class laughed like it was the funniest thing they’ve ever heard. I now realize what it means when people say they feel stung. I was paralyzed by those words and I don’t really know why. What makes it hurt more is that starting two seconds later she called on a series of five German douchebags to try and explain Russia’s motives and says “huh that’s an interesting idea” after each of them say something painfully obviously wrong. And I felt frozen.

If given the chance to unfreeze myself, I wish I said what I was feeling but didn’t have words for: “Hey. That’s not true. Russian was the language I said my first words in. It’s the language of my childhood and my soul. It connected me to something I felt distant from during the school day. I taught myself to read this language as soon as my mom taught me the alphabet as a little kid. I went to Russian school on the weekends when I was young. I worked hard to keep up this language even though I went through shit from my peers for it. I was the only speaker of this language I knew that was my age after the age of 10. The only other time I’d hear it was when my mom criticized me, wanted to manipulate me (because I told her she sounded sweeter in Russian so she used that to her advantage in making my life hell) bc my brother stopped speaking at a young age.

The only reason I have this connection is because I’ve never worked harder for anything else in my life. I took years of Russian lit courses (in Russian) at the local uni when I was in high school. Until then I’d only done math and reading (just for fun not for school) in Russian. Having learning and sight disabilities and being expected to keep up with both college and high school class and workloads was overwhelming at times. Like I was 14, this wasn’t an “easy A” as my friends joked, it was a college level literature course. But I loved it like nothing else. It was an oasis of peace during my adolesence just getting to hear my dearest language spoken by both native speakers and those who adopted it just because of their love for it. It was the first time I realized that this aspect of me isn’t shameful. Plus, the college kids treated me like I was such a hotshot because I grew up speaking the language and I was like a tiny 14 year old in a russia Olympic jacket and a bowl cut so that made my life. Just getting to be around places where for once, I understood everything that was being said in the exact emotion it was intended, having my cultural touchstones be the norm and that I got to interact with instantly more people in this language was really special.

Maybe what pissed me off so much is not only that I think it’s wrong, but that I think she’s right. My experience is different from a Russian experience, which is why I never claimed to be Russian even when I was the most Russian person in that classroom. My experience of being Russian (Jewish) (Italian)American is as much a story of love and connection as it is of shame and disconnection. It is the story of pain feeling inadequate to everyone, always. When I was six, kids were already refusing to play with me because their parents told them I was a spy or an enemy (which wtf who parents their kid like that) just because I talked about visiting my family in the summer (which is a normal thing to do) and gd forbid they live in RUSSIA. The bullshit hasn’t stopped since. My entire childhood, my mom was vigilant about who I was allowed to tell about being Russian because of it. I thought Russian a really important language to people here. I thought they cared about us. I thought someone else who didn’t have to care about us, fucking cared about us Russian Jews. How can a fellow Jew, an academic, not understand the inherent pluralism of Jewish and Russian experiences when she’s lived in this country surrounded by Russian Jews her whole life?

And I get it. I’m not technically Russian. I don’t have a Russian passport. I didn’t grow up in Russia and that still means there’s always someone more qualified to answer certain questions. But I didn’t think it was going to be some goyische fucking German. Cuz at least I saw saturated with these types of discussions about Russian politics, not being allowed to voice my opinion bc these are Russian jewish middle aged and older people lol kids don’t have valid opinions to them, but listening intently since infancy. I watched Russian news and tv shows (we didn’t have money for both English and Russian language tv so my mom chose the Russian tv channels) on the rare occasion I sat in front of the tv. I hung around Russian speakers more than English speakers (of my parent’s age and older) for most of my childhood until this year. And it’s not just the language, it’s the culture too. It’s the fact that no one around me shared these cultural touchstones growing up. and I didn’t share their American ones even though I grew up in the US.

But trips to Russia didn’t make me feel understood in the ways I craved it would. My family always commented on how amazingly I spoke Russian «просто без акцента!» (without an accent) *insert kisses from relatives you don’t even know who they are but they know everything about you* so I was always kind of aware that I couldn’t seamlessly fit in there either. Especially when in my mom’s small town, children who played with me had literally never seen someone with my color of skin and told me I looked “dirty” which catalyzed my whole washing my hands till my arms got dry and peeled and being frightened that I wasn’t getting “cleaner” and then getting diagnosed with my second subset of OCD at the age of seven. I had so many fond memories of my mom’s hometown. So much nostalgia. But I also have memories which pain me, like the many times I was chased out of stores or once in a doctor’s office because the person assumed I was Roma because of my appearance (like I said, small town). Things got even worse when the school I went to summer camp/summer classes in my mom’s hometown found out I was JEWISH. Oof. My mom convinced me that I was betraying my culture and my ancestors and alienating myself from my grandmother when I came out to her at 11, when I cut my hair after three years of her daily verbal harassment in my mother tongue (she knew it hurts more like that). She said if I wanted to continue “on this path” I would lose all connection to Russia.... “and you don’t want that, do you?” Suffice it to say, I got the message pretty young that I don’t belong in Russia either.

My whole life I’ve been translating half of my world to the other half of my world. And within each of these worlds I must translate my contexts many fold times more. (My Babushka still doesn’t know why I’m putting “poison” in my body for what she sees as a character flaw because she just doesn’t have the context for what ADHD is and the way I was taught to translate it in Russian is «дефицит внимание» or “deficit of attention/carefulness” which as far as she’s concerned is just an American invention for what could really be solved if I just sat more still.) And this has made my world so much richer to be lucky enough to have two native languages in which I learned how to express myself and gave me two whole realms through which to intimately understand the world and all of its nuances. You gain a family when you speak a language. It’s unlike anything else! It was even more special that I got to add Arabic at 12 and now Hebrew. I’m so lucky. But an inherent downside of being taught world views that conflict with each other in some very fundamental ways is really hard when you’re autistic and have ADHD because you have to juggle not just one set of social cues and norms, but two (or more, shout out to the multilinguals from childhood). It’s hard but it’s important and I’m so lucky that this was my birthright. I just wish people would take two seconds to try and understand. Or at least think about if something they said might make someone else feel like this, especially if they’re jewish. Like to ya it’s not a new thing to be torn in many directions. Even here where it’s the dominant culture, I expected her as someone who lives here and is an academic, she’d be better.

[carrionkid]

On Shatterstar and Autism, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the 90s

I’ve always been a weird kid. It was never easy for me to connect with my peers and I didn’t fully grasp why I felt like so much of an outsider. It wasn’t until I was 16 that I was diagnosed with autism, but that really doesn’t do more than put a name to your experiences.

It did, however, help me realize that a big chunk of things that are just innate to a majority of people were never actually programmed into me. It’s hard at times, feeling like everyone around you is in on a joke you don’t understand. I can blend in, I can pretend, but only because I’ve practiced.

Most people don’t notice that I’m autistic. It’s a mix of two things. One, people are much more willing to write someone off as a shy, awkward, nerdy type of person than an autistic person. Two, in order to fit in, to make friends, to not be ostracized, I had to learn how to copy.

I am not perfect at copying, but no one is because there isn’t one “right” way to be a person.

I can’t parse sarcasm. I’m terrible at maintaining an organic conversation. I need a script to keep up the right intonation and inflection or else I will slip into a monotone.

Because this isn’t innate for me, I’m juggling many things at once and I have to prioritize.

It’s hard to

Keep up with a conversation that’s happening rapidly

Consistently come up with organic words as opposed to something you’ve memorized

Try to read the person I’m talking to,

Try to parse any meaning outside of the literal meaning of what they’re saying

AND try to keep my inflection sounding “natural”.

People find it kind of off-putting when I can’t maintain all of these things which are so easy for a good majority of people. I’ve lost track of how many times people have made jokes about me being an alien or an android. This is, in part, perpetuated by the fact that so many non-human characters are coded as autistic, whether it’s intentional or not.

But what does this have to do with the 90s? Or Shatterstar?

Well, it's unfair that we are so often forced to find solace in the non-human, to find familiarity in the shape of changelings or Vulcans or even genetically engineered gladiators from an MTV Hell Dimension.

Despite the fact that we either have non-human characters or quirky brainiacs a la Spencer Reid or House or a blend of both, sometimes it's nice to have a character to look at and say ‘they're like me’.

Which is where we come to Shatterstar.

The way I interact with pop culture and media is inexorably linked to the fact that I’m autistic. I struggle to have casual interests, I go through cycles of repetitive fixation, I use the things I love to help contextualize the world around me. All of those things are reasons why I love Shatterstar.

In the original incarnation of the character, he was written as someone unable to feel. However, I found that assertion to be directly countered by his actions; he was excitable and petty and occasionally angry and hurt. He just didn’t externalize those feelings in a way most people would recognize.

He is an outsider who doesn’t actually have the innate social skills of Earth. Granted, that’s because he didn’t actually grow up on Earth, but he’s still a few steps behind everyone else when it comes to getting people.

He doesn’t get jokes or idioms or sarcasm. He talks very formally and stilted, even after a lot of time on earth, and it can easily be read as a flat affect/monotone. He is blunt to the point of rudeness, but doesn’t always mean it maliciously.

He doesn’t understand the people around him, or how to read their emotions. Likewise, he doesn’t know how to read and process his own emotions. There is a link between poor emotional regulation and autism, which can affect both externalizing and understanding your own emotions. It can also make it hard for you to understand what other people are feeling and why. He is overwhelmed and confused by what he’s feeling and what the people around him are feeling.

The most notable thing about how he externalizes his emotions is his physicality. He moves around a lot, when he’s excited or anxious. He often seems restrained or flat unless he’s experiencing strong emotions. He needs stimulation in the form of movement or media; during X-Force, he trains near constantly, only relaxing by rapidly cycling through television channels.

He uses media as a way to contextualize the world around him. He copies what he sees, even to the point of outright quoting things from the things he’s watched. This type of quoting is functionally a form of echolalia. Specifically interactive echolalia, in which it acts as communication even if the context it's being used in seems unrelated.

So much of pop culture is built on the ability to recognize and use quotes from something in a different yet fitting context which is just a socially acceptable form of echolalia.

The way he interacts with media is also relatable, he’s canonically watched the movie ‘Unforgiven’ nine times. Repetitive fixation on specific iterations of media is exactly the reason why I’ve read the entirety of X-Force and X-Factor three times.

Even though the metaphor of autistic people as someone from another planet is overdone and oversimplified, it’s nice to see a character I can see myself in being loved without having to change himself to seem more normal or more socially apt.

[lupinepariah]

Why I Dislike Thundercats Roar

There’s likely going to be a kneejerk reaction to this that has something to do with its goofiness or the “CalArts” style. It has nothing to do with either of those reasons. In fact, the reason why is right there in the image I chose.

First of all, I’ve never objected to modern animation styles and I understand why they’re the way they are (animation is expensive, having more homogeneous factors that can be utilised across shows on a network or networks reduces costs). I loved Gravity Falls and I was a huge fan of Steven Universe, so that criticism can’t be levelled at me. In regards to goofy cartoons? I mean, come at me, I loved Darkwing Duck and you don’t get goofier than that.

No, there’s another reason.

The ‘90s was my favourite era of animation. I feel the early ‘00s is where things started turning sour for me. It’s interesting because the same souring happened with video games too but due to the long development periods involved there the effect of that was delayed until around ‘04-’05, with some truly great games still struggling to come out under the new triple-A regime even then.

I’m not a ‘90s kid, that’s not why. It’s due to the progressiveness of the ‘90s. There was an inclusive air that modern cartoons lack and I miss it. If you were to look at anything from the Extreme Ghostbusters to Kim Possible or the Proud Family, there was always a sense of everyone being important. Race, gender, or even quirkiness, identity, or what have you didn’t come into it. A character was never good or evil due to any of those factors, it wasn’t so reductivist.

Where the paradigm shift of what I’m about to cover is most clear is in the jump from Teen Titans to Teen Titans Go.

I can hear you grousing at the back, there. No, this isn’t a bait and switch. No, this isn’t about “CalArts” style. I think I know the real reason that some audiences disliked these cartoons but they couldn’t articulate it, so they just blamed the animation style or goofiness instead. I mean, that’s really foolish, disingenuous even. We had some pretty bad animation styles back in the ‘90s, I loved the Dreamstone but I wouldn’t call it an animation powerhouse. We had really goofy stuff too (stuff that literally included Goofy), so to claim it’s due to either is ridiculous.

No, what ruined cartoons for me is the characters and the lack of inclusiveness.

In modern cartoons there are characters singled out. These are often intelligent, quirky, unusual characters who’re lacking in outward emotiveness. Nice. I mean, you just made autism the butt of your jokes in every modern cartoon. Thanks for that. That is why I don’t like Teen Titans Go, Thundercats Roar, or any cartoon that fits that mould. Autistic children watch cartoons too.

What do you think it’s going to do for young autistic children when the character that represents them is always the butt of the joke? How do you think it will affect them when the rest of the cast is comprised purely of narcissistic, sociopathic, unempathetic himbos and bimbos who’re always portrayed as “in the right” for being that way? Any good parent should know that Teen Titans Go is riddled with toxic messages that are bad for any growing mind to absorb, they champion selfishness, greed, avarice, egotism, narcissism, and sociopathy all the time.

So the only character who might care—who might be intelligent enough to want to do something kind or decent—is made fun of and shot down. It’s not okay. I’m not okay with it. In Teen Titans Go that’s Robin. In Thundercats Roar that’s Tigra. I’m not okay with how these cartoons treat these characters.

No other version of the Thundercats would see Tigra treated that way.

“It’s a parody” isn’t an excuse, either. There’s nothing in Thundercats or Teen Titans that would provide a basis for treating these characters this way. So what you’re doing is you’re encouraging extraverted children to behave in sociopathic ways, you’re encouraging them to single out and bully autistic kids, you’re undoing everything the ‘90s tried to undo. Thanks for that.

It’s irresponsible. It’s reckless. And most of all? It’s unkind. There are groups of people in this world who’re just sick of being othered in this way. You can’t really tell me I’m wrong either because the proof’s right there in the image at the very beginning of this... well, I mean. Call it what you will. As an autistic person, I’ve been accused of essaying and writing tirades so I’m honestly quite jaded at this point. Cartoons like this are doing nothing to bridge the gap between autistic people and neurotypicals. They’re only alienating us more.

It’s similar to the cowardice shown by superhero movies and the eradication of redheads. Now, some will balk because they aren’t very clever. I don’t get why but I feel that people fall over themselves to be patsies for corporate suits all the time. It’s sad. No, I’m not against bringing more black people into films. I can’t understand why I’d think that when Into the Spider-Verse was my favourite superhero movie of all bloody time but you do you.

See, my issue with redhead erasure is that you don’t need to remove redheads to introduce black people. No, I’m not saying introduce new characters because I know some of you are thinking that and if we were having a conversation you’d interrupt me to tell me why that’s a bad idea. Sigh. You don’t need to remove redheads because there are plenty of other characters whose hair colour doesn’t result in so much hatred and prejudice.

If you aren’t familiar with the prejudice and hatred that redheads receive? I don’t believe you. I’m sorry, I don’t. It’s really pervasive. I won’t explain all the many kinds of grossness they endure here as it’s really triggering but you could look it up if you don’t understand. Gingerism is a thing. It’s a horrible thing.

So instead of replacing redheads, why don’t we replace others instead? There are plenty of characters we could replace with minorities without removing redheads. What about Tony Stark? Carol Danvers? Bruce Wayne? Arthur Cur—oh, DC did that. Good job DC. You get the point.

DC did good with Crazy Jane in Doom Patrol, too. Proud of you, DC. You’re not quite as terrible as Disney/Marvel. Though you still remove redheads occasionally too DC and it’s not okay.

The point is? In modern media there’s a lot of singling out of one kind of person. In superhero films that’s redheads. In superhero cartoons that’s autistic people. It’s not great. It needs to stop. The thing is? It can’t stop. The entire genre of show revolves around air-headed narcissists and sociopaths are so great, empathetic autistic people are so duuumb. I really don’t appreciate that. I’m an autistic person myself and I really don’t appreciate that.

If you don’t think you can make a compelling cartoon that’s inclusive then you haven’t seen Steven Universe, Adventure Time, Gravity Falls, or the vast, vast, vast majority of cartoons from the ‘90s. I mean, I loved Goof Troop because it was completely okay that Peej (Pete Juniour) was overweight at a time when fat phobia was still at its height. It wasn’t even considered an issue. The same was true for Wade in Kim Possible. The brains of Darkwing Duck was a young, redheaded girl. Cartoons were so inclusive back then. I miss it.

So yes. I don’t like Thundercats Roar.

I don’t like Teen Titans Go.

I have valid reasons.

Footnote: I’m using black as an identifier as the last metastudy I read said that black people hate the PoC identifier for themselves and prefer to just be called ‘blacks.’ If that isn’t the case, I apologise. I do try to stay on top of these things. I’m not invested in not offending anyone because everyone will be offended by something, you can’t not offend, but I do care about hurting people who’ve endured real emotional pain. That’s not okay, so I do my best.

[jedifighterpilot2727]

So, how are Lena and Kara prepare for Lexi's arrival? My head canon is that they'll go completely overboard and they'll lose their sleep trying to figure out how to decorate her bedroom and how to buy her clothes and things she might not like to eat etc. Please tell you are going to write a chapter focused on Lena and Kara nesting?

Warning, this turned out way fluffy!

Read it on AO3 - http://archiveofourown.org/works/10189040/chapters/23888634

Nesting

Lena Luthor-Danvers is not about to have a nervous break down in the middle of an upscale children’s boutique.

She has stared down billionaire CEOs across a boardroom table -some of whom had wanted to kill her.

She has faced assassins head-on numerous times without even blinking.

She has visited both Lex and Lillian behind bars with barely a second thought.

She’s been consistently ranked by CatCo magazine as one of the most powerful women in National City for the past five years, and she’s been married to one of the other most powerful women for three.

She is strong, she is independent, she is -

About to have a nervous breakdown in the middle of an upscale children’s boutique.

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” Kara’s voice startles her from her near panic attack, and she looks up to see her wife studying a car seat like it’s a piece of alien technology - although, she supposes Kara would look less confused if she were studying alien tech.

“What do you mean you don’t think this is a good idea?” Her mind races through the possibilities, Kara’s words doing nothing to calm her already frayed nerves.

Buying a booster seat in that hideous pattern isn’t a good idea?

Adopting Lexi isn’t a good idea?

Adopting at all isn’t a good idea?

She fights to keep the panic out of her voice as she watches Kara fiddle with the buckle on the seat.

“Kara?”

“Hmm?” Kara’s eyes never stray from the seat, and Lena knows she must be completely absorbed if she isn’t even distracted by the erratic pounding of Lena’s heart.

“What isn’t a good idea?”

Kara does look up then, hand flitting around the store.

“Waiting until the last minute to buy all of this, it just feels a little stressful.”

A little?!

“Are you okay?” Kara’s gaze settles on her now, blue eyes filled with concern. “Your heart is racing!”

“I just wasn’t sure what you were going to say isn’t a good idea.” She swallows thickly. “I thought maybe you had changed your mind.”

“About Lexi?”

Lena forces herself to nod, because if they’re going to have this conversation, now is as good a time as any.

“Lee …” Kara pulls her into a hug and she feels lips against her hairline. “Are you having doubts?”

She thinks about the question, because this is important, life changing.

“No.” Kara’s hands rub her shoulders and she continues. “I have doubts about how good of a mother I’ll be, about if I even know what I’m doing … but I don’t doubt that we can provide the best home for that little girl, and I don’t doubt that when we take her home tomorrow that we’ll be making the right decision.”

“I agree. Although, for the record, you’re going to make a fantastic mother.”

“Not as good as you.”

Kara laughs and her lips brush Lena’s ear.

“I highly doubt that Mrs. Zor-el.” One last embrace and a kiss to her forehead and Kara is pulling back, although she links their hands together. “So remind me again why we waited for the last minute to buy all of this stuff?”

Lena squeezes her wife’s hand, grateful for the comfort that comes with the contact.

“Because we didn’t know how old the child would be, and after we found Lexi we were to busy with all of the other preparations to come shopping.”

“Right.” Kara sighs. “Do we even need a car seat?”

“You know we do, you read the same books I did.”

“Right.” Another sigh.

“If it makes you feel any better, the company of drivers we use is certified in installing them so we really just have to pick one out.”

“Well, when you put it that way, it sounds so easy!” Kara smirks and Lena can’t resist bumping their shoulders together before gesturing to one of the seats.

“That one looks cute.”

Kara leans closer to read the tag.

“Fits the specs we need, I like it, let’s get it.”

Lena isn’t sure if Kara actually likes it, or if she’s just tired of looking at car seats, but she pulls out her phone and snaps a picture all the same.

“I’ll put it on the list for Angela to ship over! Now, one item down, a hundred more to go!“

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Are you sure she needs this many shirts?”

Lena stops the shopping cart in the middle of the aisle and turns to give her wife a pout.

“They’re so cute though! And she needs lots of different styles! How are we going to know what she likes if we don’t give her options! And she may have sensory issues, so we need to get different textures to see what she’s most comfortable in.“

“Fair enough.” Kara runs a hand along the racks, before picking out a few careful selections and adding them to the ever growing pile. “I had no idea that pre-schoolers were so fashionable.”

“You should write an article about it for CatCo Magazine, ‘How Stylish is Your Baby?’” she teases, reaching for a pair of miniature slacks.

“Ooh! I like it!” Kara pulls out her phone and types furiously for a moment before slipping it back into her purse. “Right after I finish with the series on adoption. You know, I kind of feel like it’s cheating - I’m doing all this research for personal reasons and then turning around and using it to write articles.”

“It’s not cheating.”

“No?”

“No, it’s just good business, trust me.” she lowers her voice to a whisper, knowing Kara will still hear. “It’s really no different than writing articles about Supergirl.”

“True. Hey, speaking of the Girl of Steel, what are we going to do about the fact that Lexington is seemingly obsessed with her? Do you think that will be a problem?”

“Dr. Egrett says that it’s normal for autistic children to have special interest that they obsess over.” She shrugs. “Supergirl is just the first of many, I’m sure.”

Kara nods thoughtfully.

“I mean, it’s kind of cool, to be honest. I know a lot of kids really look up to Supergirl, but I never thought our own daughter would be a fan.”

Lena squeals softly and Kara gives her a concerned look.

“You said ‘daughter’.” She explains. “We have a daughter! Or we will; on Friday.”

“It’s hard to believe, it’s still sinking in, really.”

She’s wondering how long it will be before any of this feels real when she spots a flash of color on the wall.

“Would you look at that?”

“What?” Kara’s eyes widen as they follow where she’s pointing to a Supergirl bedding set, the House of El crest taking up the center of the comforter.

“Well we have to get that!” Lena insists, marching over towards the display. “This will go perfectly with the miniature super sleep suit Winn is making!”

“Speaking of which, she is going to be so excited when she finds out that the same guy who made Supergirl’s suit made her pajamas.”

“Is he bringing them when he and James come over on Sunday?” They’ve reached the shoes now, and Lena is wondering how many tiny pairs she can buy before it’s too many.

“Supposed to be!” Kara waves a pair of child-size Sperry’s. “Alright, well, these are adorable, so were getting them.”

“Love, you’ve said that about everything you’ve seen.”

“What? This is what happens when we wait until the last minute! It’s like going to the grocery store hungry.”

Lena rolls her eyes and picks up a pair of sneakers.

“You’re always hungry.”

“Ooh, we should stop by that frozen yogurt shop on the way home, I saw a tweet that they have a new flavor!”

- - - - - - - - - - -

Four hours one furniture store, a toy store, a bookstore, plus one frozen yogurt shop later, and they’re finally home; cones in hand as they watch the delivery workers bring in the next load of furniture.

“That was surprisingly not as painful as I thought it was going to be.” Kara observes, glasses slipping down her nose as she licks a circle around her cone. “That was actually kind of fun!”

“Kara Luthor-Danvers enjoying shopping? We’ve been married too long, I must be rubbing off on you!” Lena uses her fingers to daintily break off a piece of waffle cone and pop it in her mouth.

“On the contrary, we could be married for a hundred years and I don’t think it would be long enough!”

“You’re such a sap!” she elbows Kara’s side but sighs contentedly when a strong arm drapes around her shoulders and pulls her close.

“Are you ready for our next adventure?” Kara stares out over their living room at the various boxes and packages waiting to be distributed around the house.

“Please,” Lena rolls her eyes, “You act like everyday with you isn’t an adventure.”

Kara snorts.

“Yeah, but this is different. We’re going to be moms.”

“It is kind of exciting, I suppose.” She can feel the butterflies fluttering in her chest.

Good butterflies.

“Well, for the record, there’s no one else I’d rather go on this adventure with.”

She looks over to see Kara looking at her like she personally ascended to the sky and hung the moon.

She doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of that look.

“Since we’re speaking on the record, you should know that I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else either. And you can take that quote straight to the papers.”

[destressjournal]

Ranking all (109?) DCOMS

Yes! It will be a challenge but I already ranked all 58 Disney animated movies, and once I complete more rankings, maybe I’ll start a blog/podcast about that. Who knows.

The easy part about ranking the Disney films was that each film was unique. The Disney channel films....many of them are pretty similar so I have to remember what each film was about. And this blog can be my way of writing those thoughts down!

So here are my rankings for the 10 first ever Disney channel films!

10. You Lucky Dog

I never heard of this film before i decided to watch all of these in order. And I think there’s a reason. It’s fucking weird. Someone must have been high or something when coming up for the premise of this movie. Like I thought it was supposed to be a movie like Beethoven or Air Bud, just a cute little dog movie about a wacky dog that turns a family up-side down. But no, it’s a dog...therapist??? That had the ability to channel a dog’s mind when he was 14, yet built an entire business based on that ability that he LOST and never got back....and people bought into it??? It’s just the weirdest movie and I really didn’t enjoy a grown man acting and talking like a dog throughout like half the movie. It was weird. I liked the dog. But the rest I didn’t like.

9. Genius

This movie was also weird....but it was better than You Lucky Dog. The logic and the plot points of the story just didn’t line up for me, and the main character was extremely cringey. I had to pause every 10-15 minutes because I literally couldn’t take it. His acting was great! But the lines he was given aren’t good. The story is also really weird, like he was lying about his identity, enrolled himself in middle school while being a college student, faking an entire personality and purposely failed most of his classes, tried everything he could to be in two places at once throughout the whole movie, almost killed everyone in the ice rink due to his negligence of his machine, all to impress some girl. None of the characters I thought were believable, not because of their acting but because of the dialogue and the story, it just doesnt make any sense. But at least it’s about a kid genius and NOT a dog therapist, lol.

8. Brink!

When I first saw this movie I thought it was fine, and then I sat with it for a bit and it got further down my list. There are parts of the story that don’t make sense to me, like don’t you have to compete in the invitational to compete in the championship? Cuz the main characters didn’t even show up and they’re still able to enroll their team in the finals?? And it’s supposed to be a national event of the best teams in the country, and these kids literally just stroll in out of nowhere with their dinky dog groomer shirts, can just sign up, and then beat all the professional sponsored teams?? So yeah, this movie loses points because the logic doesn’t line up. But I think the lesson is good, that who you are is different than what you do, and that your value shouldn’t be determined by how productive you are at something. The execution of that lesson is a little iffy though.

7. Under Wraps

The first ever DCOM and it shows. DCOMs will never be like this ever again! It was more mature and dark than anything we have today on Disney channel. That alone gives it some points. However, as a movie, it’s missing the connection you make with the characters. I just personally didn’t think any of them were interesting. The mummy was cute and funny at times, but sometimes the slapstick jokes and gags were a little over the top. Also, I just kept hearing Patrick from spongebob every time the mummy made any noise, and that ruined it a little for me. I know it’s the same voice actor lol. But I do like the touch that the main character’s mom’s bf are the same actor, making the connection between them a little easier. And at least the logic (pretty much) lined up for this movie. I might watch every Halloween, we’ll see.

6. Can of Worms

This movie was only SLIGHTLY better than Under Wraps. And that’s only because I felt a good connection with the main character, Mike. You can tell because I actually remembered his name. He’s a relatable character to me and his acting was very good. I have personally met people that talk and act exactly like Mike, and I honestly think his character represents someone on the autism spectrum very well (I’m autistic too so don’t get mad at me stereotyping). I’m not saying he represents everybody, or even me, just that I’ve met people like him before. His desire to fit in and be normal, and then later his desire to get off earth, was I think the most powerful part of the movie. He truly believed he was an alien from outer space because it made more sense in his mind than believing he was just different, because there was no possible way he could be the same species if everything he says and does is considered “weird”. I related SO hard to this, because it’s exactly what being autistic can be like. I was really into the first half of the movie, and then....the second half with the aliens was just dumb. It became a generic alien monster movie, with some tiny good parts sprinkled in. But the ending just didn’t make sense....mike still plays football at the end even though he’s not good and doesn’t like it....? Like he’s still trying to force it because he thinks “this is where he belongs”. Like you could have easily showed him building robots with new friends in robotics club (something that he’s good at and likes) and then hanging out with the rest of his friends after to send that message home. That you can usually find a place where you belong. So anyway, this movie is stuck in the middle for me.

5. Zenon: Girl of the 21st Century

Now we’re gonna get into the more popular ones. I think I would have enjoyed this so much more as a kid, but I didn’t grow up with it. This was my first ever viewing. The movie itself is pretty good, and it’s so interesting to see what people in the late 90’s thought about what the future would be like. Flying cars, computers you can hold in your hand, taking commercial flights to space, etc. but it was all still based on 90’s technology at the same time, it was really interesting. The biggest aspect of the movie that makes it lose points for me, is Zenon as a character. I like her, don’t get me wrong! But she hardly changes throughout the movie. Yes she learns to like earth but then at the end of the movie she’s happy to be back in space and that’s it. Now, I haven’t seen the sequels yet, but JUST based on this movie alone, I think it would have been more valuable to show her traveling back and forth, or say “Hey Greg, wanna see each other next week?” Just something to show that she likes earth now. But even then, that’s the only aspect of her that changed. All the antics she got in were justifiable, she was right the whole time. It was on everyone else to change to see her perspective. And I just don’t like when movies do this. I need characters to have reasonable flaws and learn to either accept them or change them depending on the situation. Also, this is just a little nit pick, but WOW that song at the end was so bad yet it’s STILL stuck in my head...they call this a rock and roll song yet I didn’t hear any guitar or bass. Even the drums were just kicks and pops made on the computer, that doesn’t sound like what an actual drum sounds like...It’s just a pop song. Call it for what it is people! The lyrics were good tho.

4. Halloweentown

I’ll probably get some hate for putting this at number 4, but when I was watching another review on a YouTube channel, they pointed out how annoying Marnie was, and now I see it. She’s not unbearably annoying, but enough to be like “wow, this kid is a bit of a brat. I would never talk to my mom like that.” On one hand, I see how she matured throughout the movie, so I think it makes sense for her to be a little obnoxious and naive, she’s just a kid. On the other hand, you’re supposed to like your main character and root for them, which doesn’t help if you think they’re a brat. I didn’t grow up with this movie either, so maybe that’s why I didnt immediately put it as number 1, cuz there’s no nostalgia factor. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t like it. It’s still a good movie that I will watch every halloween! I liked the characters and the story, and things seemed to flow together pretty well. The only reason it lost points for me, were the over-the-top gags. I get it, the movie is made for kids, and I always keep that in mind when I watch these, but sometimes it gets a little too silly for a movie about a dark overlord who wants to get rid of humans. Idk. Still like it though!

3. The Thirteenth Year

Okay, I admit it. This one is a guilty pleasure for me. I’m sorry. I feel like Halloweentown should be at 3 and this one at 4 if I want to be truly objective, but I have too many nostalgia feels for this movie. And I like that the tone is more serious and there aren’t any silly over-the-top gags. But that doesn’t mean this movie is perfect, it’s at number 3 for a reason. The last few times I watched this were when I was a kid in the early 2000’s, so as a kid I loved this movie. And I was also obsessed with mermaids and I wanted to be one so bad. This movie kind of fulfilled this dream for me, and other movies like Aquamarine and The Little mermaid. But anyway, after watching this as an adult, it doesn’t exactly hold up. Sam is kind of an annoying character who doesn’t add much to the movie. She’s just the popular girl, and another reason for Cody to stay with the popular crowd. She gives him a picture of herself as a birthday gift...? I think it would be an okay anniversary gift for adults who are dating, not kids. It just rubs me the wrong way. Also, the kid who plays Cody is not a very good actor...he’s just okay. Everything else about the movie, still love!!

2. Smart House

I grew up with this one too, and again, they try to imagine what a futuristic house would look like in the 90’s. And half that stuff actually came true with things like Siri and alexa, which is pretty neat to see almost 30 years after this movie came out. Still what kid wouldn’t want to have a giant screen on their wall showing something like a music video, the beach, or a basketball game. Every kid wanted to live in that smart house back then. The movie still holds up pretty well today, not because of the technology but because of the message and the characters. All of the actors and actresses were wonderful! The story is so sad but believable. I’ve never gone through a parent death, but I’ve had friends that have, and it’s such a weird dynamic when the other parent starts dating for the first time after. I can’t imagine what effect that can have on a young child. At least when my friends went through it they were at least in high school, if not, college. So they had a bit more understanding/maturity about it. But yeah, the kid who plays Ben rocked his part. Some tiny nitpicks include the house itself being somewhat outdated now, and the side characters presence in the film. They don’t have much significance, idk. The movie really tugs at your emotions, and is definitely the movie that got me closest to crying so far.

1. Johnny Tsunami

This was my first viewing, as I didn’t grow up with this one either. Compared to Smart House, which is honestly just an emotional roller coaster, this is just a good movie imo. It was more epic, it had more diversity, great acting, and a plot that made sense thematically. There wasn’t over-the-top slapstick gags, and I think it teaches good lessons about life. I honestly thought the grandpa was gonna die because that’s usually what happens to old wise mentors, but I’m glad it stayed away from that trope and actually brought him back for the end of the movie. I thought that was an interesting touch. Basically, while I was watching these I was thinking “okay this can be done better” “I don’t like this” “this feels too forced”, but with this one, I was just watching a movie most of the time. I honestly don’t know how it could be much better. It’s still not the best Disney channel movie ever (I’m guessing), and it still has some flaws. For example, the girl character was being such a flip flop throughout the whole movie and was being a little too mean to Johnny. Another tiny nitpick is when johnny’s parents are like “yeah we’re moving to Vermont” I was expecting a little more pushback from Johnny but he’s like “awww okay” and idk what to think about it because it could be considered out of character. Otherwise, this is a great unique movie that I will definitely rewatch in the future.

For every movie that I watch, I’m going to review it separately and that’s how I’ll keep track of my thoughts as I go through each film. But this is where I stand for the first 10 DCOMs. Unlike the Disney animated classics, I don’t know what my number one film is. Right now it’s Johnny Tsunami but that is definitely going to change. I can’t wait to see what my personal favorite will be! It may come down to several.

[thelibraryshow]

When you realize

Don’t bother to check Facebook. If they were your friends, they’d call or you’d make plans to do something. Friendships are not sustained by a thumbs up. Those aren’t my friends.. I’ve just known them for a long time. They have little or no idea what my daily life is like, even those I’ve known for almost 20 years. I actually pay attention and pretty much know what they’re up to IF anyone still posts anything real, non-commercial, or non-self promotional. It’s mostly reposts. I don’t even look at people’s pages, I don’t need to see another airbrushed, perfectly lit “candid” of your conventional family, the one you finally built, or your new car- the ford you’ve always dreamed of. I don’t really care about your favorite cartoon and I’m not buying your Tupperware, your paintings, and I’m pretty sure now hat we can choose precisely what we see, I’m on exactly nine lists. How do I know this? I always get nine likes. 23 if it’s something you have to like; a picture of your mom or someone who died young, anything military, your ugly new baby or anything nature-centric. Whatever the trend is, they will “like” it. Give it a try. Tumblr… well, I like the anonymity. This is the kind of stuff you’d share with your FB friends in the past or tell them over lunch in the way, way past. My real stuff got me alienated. I know the exact post that blackballed me with my white friends enhanced my standing with my black friends. My Asian friends love perfection, innovation and art. Girls? Depends on the girl. Guys? I don’t post pictures celebrating how many turkeys I bagged or the antlers of all he bucks I killed this year so… In my flesh & blood life, I get it! The people I’ve been close to the last year split when they figure out I’m really not going to show them how awesomely comfy by bed is.

I’m confused about all of this. From a thriving, overwhelming social life that just fell on top of me to a social life populated with users, losers and people who want to “chill”. I finally figured out that chill is code for sex in certain circles. Yeah, who knew? Not me, because I don’t speak American slang.

I’m lonely as fuck but id almost rather the only people I spoke to today were my mum, Aiden and a few cashiers. The cashiers were friendly enough & my family is always there… if I make the first move. Think I prefer my mother & the cashiers most days. No baggage. I’ve been a hardcore wardrobe slut since I bought my first bespoke blazers to comply with the handbook from my first boarding school. In this big Japanese house, my dressing room is between my room and the library. Typical living room size. I lounge there... I feel the hand-woven vintage fabrics, the suedes, the furs. This room feels more mine than my studios. Because however I want to present myself on a given day is neatly folded and hung behind glass doors? No, because I like shopping and this room is designed as a shopping experience. Mirrors surpass my 6'2". Rack piece of furniture Is a one off, designed for, imported by and beautifully crafted by five generations of my family. The library and every other room are similar. Does anyone know what it feels like to live in a museum spanning early 18th century to landmark mid century modern to early American? Carefully curated. It's everything and exclusively what I want to live with. Nothing more. It has to be... because.. .

I'm Working on getting accustomed to life without much human interaction. But then I’ve been working on that for a decade. I’m very social. How do I extract that trait?

People who like me like me a lot. Too much. People who don’t like me never say so, they just do shitty things- like when your cat gets pissed and poops on your bed. That’s never happened & my cats live in pure feline luxury as do my guests. People rave over my house. My cats? I give them what I used to give people I cared for. Time, attention, whatever they need or want. Try that with most humans. Turns out I don't draw convincing boundaries.

I used to have a lot of money. I spent it freely. I entertained, I traveled, I collected, I surround myself with lush gardens, and at times, gilded interiors. literally. I picked up the bill and ordered the cars... I spent extravagant sums on my art practice. Those same friends either bought or stole so much art I don’t even exhibit anymore. I design and redesign my gardens. Extreme gardening is a great replacement for interactions but even that garnered unwanted attention so, I opened my gardens to the public to raise money for a cause that didn't save one life, feed one person or clothe one kid, though the public library was something I did believe in before I realized they have never been short one dime.. 400 people in my garden, a years preparation.. in return I frequently looked out my window to see a couple of little old ladies treating my space like a public botanical garden. It was amusing the first couple of times. Then I moved.. and took the garden with me. Every tree, every stone. It took six months to relocate an extreme landscape, but it was satisfying. My extraordinarily well heeled gardener had quit by then. Work wasn’t his thing.

I’m alone in my new house. It’s mostly glass and big windows. It’s open with secret passageways between rooms and I love it more and more. I've become attached though not necessarily secure. I know I’m on the clock. Counting the days till I relocate this landscape too. My sources for hedging material and anything related to anything I do have pulled away, so, don’t ask how I obtain my materials. I haven’t figured out if I’m awful or if people like me who always have funds but no visible means of earning those funds are seen with suspicion. A few people continuously try to figure it out. They never get it quite right & the few I told didn't believe me so I never told anyone again.

I’ve been dating someone new. He doesn’t call, he’s autistic, he thinks he’s in love with me… or he did last time I saw him. He too wants something quite physical so I can’t see it surviving summer. It’s okay though, I’m getting good at resisting attachments. It’s painful. I suppose hermits gradually grow thicker skin? Or are they sad, miserable people numbing themselves to what they desire? I’ve Met numb people. They’d given up. They were like me; they never fit in and weren’t willing to sacrifice what they loved about themselves or what alienated others.

So, full circle? I resist attachments and can’t recognize a friend when it appears. I really am preparing to be alone. A hermit more or less. The weird cousin or uncle who’s never around. “ I’m not around because hearing how unusual and exotic I am got old the first time you observed it”.

Kinda lonely. Trying to become accustomed to it. Im to young and I still want... Replacing people with rare plants. I miss being center stage. I miss clubbing all night. I miss making pasta for a house full of people. I miss sharing my house, my food…my music especially. I miss making art in my studio. I miss my big family. I miss the illusion of friendship. I miss my one friend who knew everything about my favorite subject: art and design. I miss my crew: the people you never see by day.. because we’re resting up and shopping for something to wear out the next night. I miss long conversations about ancient, obscure books. I miss my friend Greg. The only solace is he died a year ago. Solace because we never split up. We watched every pre-1950 movie we could get our hands on. We spoke the same language, usually obscure references to films no one in any other part of my much compartmentalized life will ever know. I miss Greg. I miss NOT feeling like this. Crying, but nothing comes out. If I could have a good cry, I think I’d feel better. I miss being 100% sober. I take sleeping meds and anxiety meds now. I have a brilliant new psychiatrist I see every month or two. I look forward to it, but looking forward to it means looking forward to the onset of cold weather which presents a thousand other trials Yeah, I think about suicide. I know how and I know I can go anytime I like, but I’ve kind of promised myself I’d stick around as long as my mother does. She’s the only family I talk to besides my dad, when he’s not golfing and my nephew who’s five and adores Me. I know where adoration leads in my family. These people turn on a dime, especially when he becomes an athletic super star and his father finally gives a fuck. I’m a bit like a place holder when it comes to nephews. Tomorrow is my older nephews HS graduation. I’m not invited. When they’re young, my brother can’t be bothered to do so much as feed them. Then they grow up and do something that pleases him. Then it’s my son this, my son that. The most stunning thing about not being invited to any corner of this kids graduation isn’t that I’m not invited on the trip, it’s that before he was born, my aunt warned me not to get too close to him… and then she died. How was she so spot on? You know what else? Very, very little has come about which wasn’t available info to anyone paying attention to the patterns of my family over generations. If my family were a publicly traded stock, I’d be a trillionaire. As it stands I learned late how to use this to my advantage, though I know how to profit from each of them in some way. it doesn’t make me sad seeing what my nephew is, it makes me sad having to face it instead of guess at it and hear my mother deny what I thought, and now know to be truth. The only think I felt about that was I pretty: I thought of cutting him off financially. It’s paperwork I don’t want to do, it would ignite a chain reaction with My own inheritance, and in the end, he will never need anyone else’s money. If I do nothing and get hit by a bus, this snotty little bastard gets everything I have. I talked to my friend piyush tonight, he’s home in India now. He told me I’m always on my Mind. The best part is he’s always on my Mind too. Lots of people are on my Mind and I like knowing I may see them sometime. Piyush told me he was thinking of me and when he says it, I know he means it. I know it because we have ups and downs. He’s been rotten to me, I’ve been rotten to him maybe, we live in the real world. That relationship has sustained so much. It’s not the conditional, situational relationship one is accustomed to. Some good things happened today.