#no macs were harmed in the making of this doodle

[art-by-micket]

look me in the eyes and tell me mac hasn’t accidentally blown himself up at least once in the lab

[paceplace]

Top 5 NPC toons!

okay so this was actually a bit difficult for me to answer because there are a lot of NPC toons i like LOL. answer under a readmore bc this got long

1) lil oldman. while i do get why a portion of the community disliked him (especially if you came from tto) i personally was always fond of him! this is mainly because he's one of the few npc's in tto who actually had a personality but also the more i think about it, it almost feels like the folks at disney were poking fun at how grindy it's own game was when designing his taskline? like you could pick up it was grindy at certain points prior but they really weren't holding back at that point. it's kind of a cruel joke in hindsight but it's amusing in a messed up sort of way.

clash's take on oldman is also incredibly funny. the way they wrote his dialogue is so good you can tell they had fun with it. i really loved how they referenced both the trading card lore (brrrgh's existence w/ the air conditioner) and the frustrations ppl had with tto oldman's taskline in the dialogue. even though clash wants to distance itself from the original game as much as possible, seeing stuff like that in-game truly warms my heart.

2) barnacle bessie. kind of a hot take but i said this before and i'll say it again: bessie did NOTHING wrong and i will die on this hill!! i always found it odd that ppl viewed bessie's actions towards misty as unreasonable/cruel esp when it's been established multiple times that the cogs have been stealing their resources and harming them. it comes off as ppl seeing bessie defend herself as a bad thing which is really backwards, imo. i think you can feel bad for misty while acknowledging that by being affiliated with a company that actively harms the toons, she will be viewed as untrustworthy by them. she also kinda reminds me of laurien in the sense that they're both resistance rangers who are used to/prefer working in the background but then got promoted to a higher position of power and initially struggled before finding their footing in the end (laurien failed being a leader in clo but got redeemed in oclo, bessie was struggling with the cogs in the beginning of bb, but was in a better position by the end of the taskline after our help). maybe i'm reaching with this comparison but idrc it's interesting to think about to me so i'm putting it here.

3) aunt arctic. i'm putting her on this list solely because of her toontask giving her the "i need to go sad." phrase. she being the only npc to tell you to go green yourself is comedy gold i don't care what anyone says.

4) mac opsys/winn dos. putting them together bc they're a package deal. i'm bad at trying to solve ARG's but i really like when these two show up! their friendship is super cute and i really hope we see them in-game at some point or learn more about them!

5) paletti swatch. while we don't know anything of their personality, i think it was super clever of clash to make it so that their design changes everytime you load into the playground! it's not a secret toons can change their size and shape due to their nature but it's a small detail that adds to the charm of a cartoonishly wacky, colorful world

some honorable mentions are doe vinci (her design is so cute! i love doodling her in my sketchpad), flippy, and tutorial tom.

[dawnwave16]

Crash and Burn!

Marinette was over it. In the 3 months that had passed since HawkMoth's defeat. Lila's lies had grown from name dropping lies to ones that would destroy reputations in seconds if they ever came out. Adrien had seen the light when she had lied about his mother but the rest of the class still fell for everything that tumbled out of her mouth.

Due to being Ladybug, Marinette was one of the few that knew HawkMoths identity and it had unfortunately soured her dream of becoming a fashion designer. Not that that had been a bad thing as far as Marinette was concerned. Going into fashion design full time was something that Mlle Bustier had pretty much pushed her into when Marinette had made the mistake of doodling in class. Marinette's original dream had been to be able to fly F-14 Tomcat's just like her birth father. Everybody thought that Tom Dupain was her birth father but that wasn't true. Her mother had met Tom when Marinette had been four and the two had hit it off immediately. Harm had been please for Sabine, even letting her change Marinette's surname in the school records to make things easier for Sabine on parent-teacher evenings. His only condition had been that Sabine let Marinette visit him every other Christmas and on some school holidays. It was because of these visits that Marinette had started to dream of following her father into the air as soon as she was old enough. On the visit, shortly before her eleventh birthday, she had been visiting him and he'd had to go to one of the aircraft carriers for work. She couldn't remember all the hoops that had had to be jumped through to allow her to go with him but she did remember how it had ended. It had been her first time on an F-14 after all. It was a night flight and her father had insisted that the easiest way to prove that the pilots were innocent was to fly with them. He was so sure that there was nothing to worry about that he had put her into the second seat in the cockpit of the second jet. He had told her how they were flown and how to land them and she was eager to see everything from the back seat. Nobody had counted on the fact that someone had tampered with the front piolets air hoses, adding a knock out gas to them on a time-release that had only been found after they had landed. Or more accurately, after she and her father had had to take control and land the jets. It had been as scary as it was thrilling for the ten-year-old and she had vowed that she wanted to do it again. But only when she was older. It was due to this dream that Marinette had put so much effort into all her studies. Everyone thought it was just so that nobody could criticise her grades when she made it big but it was so that when she eventually graduated she could enlist in the US airforce and study law as well as how to be a piolet so that she could be just like her father. When Mlle Bustier had pushed and pushed and pushed her into fashion Marinette had let it happen and even believed that it was the right thing to do. However, she hadn't stopped the way she studied and now that her real dream was back at the forefront of her mind, she was glad that she hadn't let her study habits drop. It was as Marinette was reminiscing about all of this that Lila had started a new story. One about what it was like on an aircraft carrier, which Lila had only been on because she had been kidnapped and the captain of the carrier had saved her. She was so into her story and Marinette was so lost in her daydream that neither girl noticed the very handsome man dressed in Navy Dress Uniform standing in the doorway with a woman standing in a US Marine Dress uniform. It was only when he spoke that Marinette snapped back to the present. “There is no Navy in the world that would let a civilian walk around one of its aircraft carriers the way you are describing. It would be a serious breach of security and the captain could be court marshalled for letting it happen.” “Not to mention the only civilian to step on an aircraft carrier was a ten-year-old and her father had to jump through several bureaucratic hoops in order to let her go on board with him for the week that he was on board.” The woman added. Everyone in the class spun round to face the two of them, tensing up, except Marinette who had relaxed for the first time in ages. Her father and his wife were here and as today was the last day of school, that meant that she would be flying out to the US soon to take the first step towards her dream. Unfortunately, it seemed there would be drama from Lila first though. “Show how much you know. I'm the daughter of an Italian diplomat-” “Layla Nekane Rossi, age eighteen, born in Basque and daughter to the private secretary to the current Italian Diplomate. Father is a known con man and womaniser. You speak Italian and French although you have lived in three countries. Expelled from school in both Basque and Italy for bullying, both emotional and cyber, accused but never charged on three occasions of bullying to the point of suicide and one case of assault. Do I need to carry on?” Mac's voice was cold and hard as she spoke giving a condensed version of Lila's file. Mlle Bustier had blanched as Mac spoke and had had to sit down by the end of it. Lila was about to say something to defend herself but Harm spoke up first. “Unfortunately you finally chose the wrong person to bully. They might not have been making a fuss recently as they have finally realised that the ones she was trying to protect don't deserve it but that doesn't mean she didn't go looking for justice for your previous victims. To add to the charges from the other countries, you will be facing charges of terrorism along with one Chloé Bourgeois. As you are old enough to be tried in court as an adult, that is exactly what will be happening.” “What! That is ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous! Why am I getting charged with anything?” Chloé screeched. “You'll find out when you get to court. In the meantime, I suggest you both find a decent lawyer.” Mac said dryly. “Who are you two anyway?” Alya demanded even though she was still reeling from everything that had come out about Lila. “Lieutenant Colonel Sarah "Mac" MacKenzie, USMC and Captain Harmon ''Harm'' Rabb Jr Executive officer (XO), USS Allegiance.” The class spun round to face Marinette as she spoke. “Marinette, you know them?” Adrien asked his face a mask of confusion. “Why wouldn't I know my birth father and someone he is in an on-again-off-again relationship with? By the way, it's great to see you both again but I thought you were only meant to be coming to France in three weeks time?” Marinette's voice was just as dry as Mac's had been and the class realised that Marinette had spent a lot of time around them in order to have picked up that sort of habit. “Marinette why would they need to fetch you. You're 18, surely you are capable of travelling by yourself. Besides didn't you get invited to study at ESMOD? Or are you just travelling for a month before your new classes start?” Mlle Bustier's voice was calm but Marinette could hear the manipulative quality in it. She sighed and turned to face her old teacher. “One, I never applied to ESMOD, so I have no idea why you think they would have invited me to study there. I let you think that I wanted to be a fashion designer because that is what you were constantly telling me I should be. Yes, I like fashion but that's not what I want to do with my life, it never has been. Two, Yes I am capable of travelling by myself but why would I turn down the chance to spend time with my family. Hawkmoth and Dad's duty has kept him away for the last four years and I have missed him terribly! Skype and phone calls just aren't the same as being able to cuddle into him while watching movies. And three, if you truly want to know what I will be doing with the rest of my life I'll tell you. I plan to follow in Dad's footsteps in be a naval aviator for the US Marines and study to be a JAG. I want to fly for as long as I can though!” Harm smiled proudly as his daughter spoke then exchanged a look with Mac when their influence on her personality shone through. “Where's my hug, munchkin?” Harm said with a smirk. Marinette walked over to him and gave him a big hug her eyes squeezed closed as she soaked in her dad's reassuring presence. To Marinette, this was the best medicine she could ever have asked for. Not only was her dad here but he had exposed Lila or Layla as was her real name, in a way that couldn't be fought. He had provided hard evidence for every fact he had provided. Mlle Bustier, however, didn't seem to get the memo that Marinette was done with being manipulated by her. “Marinette are you sure about that? I mean don't you have commissions from several big-name celebrities that you get regularly?” Marinette forced herself not to growl at Mlle Bustier, not knowing that Adrien's father had walked up and was waiting at the door, listening to the answer too as Mr Agreste was still wanting to offer her an internship. “Designing was never my end-game career choice. If I wash out of basics or am injured in a way that the navy or JAG is not an option, then I will think about doing design full time. Those that have commissioned me for things know that it will never be my full-time job and that I want to serve like my dad does. They support that decision and encourage me to do my best!” Adrien walked over to her and gave her a hug, as she had stepped out of her father's arms as she spoke to Mlle Bustier. Like everyone else, he hadn't seen his father arrive but he decided to give one last parting shot to the class before he left too. “Only one person has ever asked me what I want to do with my life. When I said I didn't know she encouraged me to follow my heart. Unfortunately for almost everyone here, she has my heart. The conversation

took place three years ago so this is not a rash decision despite what most of you think. I'm leaving to follow Mari into the Navy. I have my green card etc and everything has already been legally approved, so you can't use that against me. Also, yes I do know that we probably won't be in the same unit but this is something I want to do for myself.” As soon as Adrien had finished talking the group of four walked away with the teens between the two adults, the four of them chatting away happily in English which left most of the class confused. Neither of the teens noticed Mr Agreste standing in the corridor, leaning against the wall clutching his heart as though in pain. They didn't notice the ambulance as it pulled up to fetch Mr Agreste, nor did they notice as police cars arrived to fetch Chloe and Layla. They didn't see the class trying to make sense of the mess that had been left behind them and to be honest, they didn't care. As far as Adrien and Marinette were concerned, they were free to live their lives. They had been friends for years and they became better ones when they had revealed their identities to each other after Miracle Queen. They were partners and they would face the future the way they had faced everything else: together.

@ash-amg-blog

[willowlark369]

Not a Miracle

I have two wonderful daughters who I love very much. I never planned on being a mother. I took multiple measures to prevent it, actually. I still ended up with my girls, and honestly, yes, I’m glad of their presence in my life now that I have them. (Not gonna go any deeper into the implications of that right now. Maybe in a different post.)

I noticed almost immediately that my Bug was different than I had been expecting. She didn’t follow the developmental map that the books told me was pretty much the be-all-end-all. It wasn’t that she lagged behind a lot either. She had a few places that she did, but mostly, she just sped ahead on things. She began speaking (and in weirdly structured sentences to boot) at six months old and within the next month had decided that crawling was too slow and took off running.

But she didn’t like demonstrating either of those things to anyone outside of a small circle of people. I still remember the doctor trying to get her to talk or even babble for her, and Bug refused to do either. Once the doctor left the room, the little eight-month-old turns to glare at me before declaring that she was “not a monkey, mamama.”

Getting her to come out of her shell (I legitimately thought she was just being a combination of stubborn & shy) was an ongoing struggle and by the time her sister came along, I had figured that playdates were not a good idea. Bug would end up either hitting/kicking the other child or hitting/scratching herself afterwards. I didn’t understand why and the doctor consistently told me that it was just a phase and she’ll grow out of it.

That was also around the time that the only meal-like thing I could get Bug to eat was peanut butter on wheat. Beyond various whole fruits, that’s the only thing I could convince her to eat. I couldn’t even convince her to eat candy. Again, her doctor said it was just a phase and that I should vary the fruit and add a meal replacement drink to keep her as nutritionally balanced as possible while waiting her out. (It took over a year to convince her to try mac & cheese, and it was Bean, my other daughter, who did it.)

Bug loved art and drawing. Taking her to our local art museum for the first time was like watching her finally come alive. She wanted to know everything and she was willing to even talk to strangers (tho’ she still refused to actually look at many of them while doing so, but that’s fine, right? She’s just a shy kid and that’s okay, right?). I could barely get her to focus enough to read anything before, but upon learning that there were whole books about art and artists spurned her on until I could barely keep her in books on the subject. Suddenly instead of never talking, she never stopped and it was all about what she read about such-and-such work/technique or so-and-so artist.

This new increase of interacting with the world seemed also bring about a whole new level of problems though. There were times when even gentle brushes against her skin would make her start screaming like she was dying. (Both of us pulled back from the cuddles we had used to share, afraid of hurting her. Neither of us understood anything beyond a hug hurt.) More than once, she would just randomly rubbing at her ears or eyes until the skin started to redden or she would smell something that had been fine before (even just a few hours before) and become violently sick. Trying to keep clothes on her if we weren’t going somewhere or having guests over had been an issue that we didn’t really make a battleground, but as she started school, we started having issues with her randomly undressing in school for the very vague reason of “it was uncomfortable�� but no other explanation.

She didn’t want to sit still in class or listen to the teacher. (Well, she’s stubborn, isn’t she? She always had been.) She liked math, but didn’t like reading unless it was about art or math. Science apparently only mattered when it was about how different things were made (especially anything that could be used for art). She didn’t want to do school work unless it was math. She would rather be drawing. If we could get her to talk (which was becoming increasingly difficult to do as other kids started telling her to shut about the stupid art stuff), she could easily demonstrate that even though we thought she wasn’t listening while doodling or twirling her pencil, she had been.

But without her demonstrating that understanding in some measurable way, her grades remained bottom of the barrel, and she had to repeat the second grade. Part of that was constantly being sent out of the classroom for being disruptive (and only a fraction of those occurrences turned out to be actually arguing with the teacher/students, but that’s also a story for a different time).

Bug was slowly falling into the cracks. Altogether, her teachers and I could see that something wasn’t quite right but we had no clue what it might be and through all this, her doctor kept telling that it all sounded normal, “there’s nothing to worry about”, “just keep doing what you are”.

Then my best friend started researching something for herself: the presentation of autism in a female.

In reading through what she was sharing, I started noticing things. I started recognizing things. No one had even hinted that autism was anything other than an issues for boys. For six, nearly seven years, I had brought up various concerns I had about Bug’s behavior only to be told that it was all normal, even when the whatever was disrupting her life. I was tutted as an overly-anxious parent and not once had anyone mentioned that there might be a perfectly understandable reason that all this was happening.

You know what realizing that my beloved child was possibly autistic felt like?

Fucking relief.

You know what realizing that my daughter was possibly autistic meant?

It meant I could finally help.

Without even needing a formal diagnosis, I could start researching how to work around issues and solve/reduce problems. Problem understanding social cues in the same instinctive way as others? Fine. I’m a writer, so I’m used to breaking down body language to its meanings. We’ll walk through it formally. Sensory overload driving her to stim a different sense, even to the point of harm? Learn to recognize what’s happening early and remove/reduce whatever is causing the overload. Practice terminology to communicate precisely what is making clothing uncomfortable and then work to eliminate the issue as much as possible. Work with the teachers to explain what we’re doing at home to help with homework and learn how to explain why boring stuff still needed to be done. Experiment with sensory tools to find ones that will work while also not being a distraction to other students. (Yes, one of her favorites ended up being a fidget spinner, just as they were starting to get popular. Apparently, that led to a lecture in her class about accommodation versus toy. Her teacher is beyond awesome and deserves all the apples.)

It took two years but Bug started being able to hug people again. There’s still times when I tear up when she comes up behind me and just leans her full weight against me because I remember the long years when we didn’t know when a touch would be too much and didn’t know why.

Knowing what the problem was, even before a formal diagnosis, was literally life changing. This is why I promote awareness and education. My daughter didn’t need to be cured of anything. She didn’t need a miracle of any sort. She needed to be understood. Once she understood and was understood, her life improved by leaps and bounds. There’s still problems--this was not a miracle cure--but knowing what is happening means we can lessen their impact even when we can’t avoid them.

That same child who had been close to being written off by everyone outside of our little family brought home a President’s Education Award tonight.

And she happily accepted both my hug and the slice of chocolate cake as congratulations.

[iwantasecretgarden]

Taggetytagtag

DoBrought up by the freaking awesome and strong @nachodiablo

Rules: Answer all questions, add one question of your own and tag as many people as there are questions.

1. Coke or Pepsi: Diet Coke in a glass of ice or a can or a bottle or a fountain or anywhere, always. “Is Pepsi okay?” is probably the worst sentence in all of human history.

2. Disney or Dreamworks: Disney Renaissance (90s kid)

3. Coffee or tea: Coffee. I want to like tea, but it’s leaf water. And drinking it tastes like hot leaves. I try and I try and yet still...clogged pool filter in a cup.

4. Books or movies: Books. Books, I’ve never seen so many books in all my life. Best weapons in the world. But seriously in 2016 I read 42 books - didn’t quite get to my 52 I had hoped for as my upper goal, but far surpassed the 25 I had planned.

5. Windows or mac: Mac since birth. Born with my dad getting me a tiny apple jumper as he used the old timey rainbows apple with the startup OS face.

6. DC or Marvel: Marvel characters are deeper and more interesting, especially because I WANT to like Wonder Woman but every single writer just changes her backstory and nothing is consistent and I hate that. X-Men are my favorite because it’s embracing difference in an exclusive, bigoted world.

7. X-box or Playstation: I wasn’t allowed to play video games because my parents thought they would make me violent so now I’m WOEFULLY AWFUL at them. But does Wii Lego games count? Because I really like Wii Lego Harry Potter. I know. I know. But it’s actually adorable. I also play Wii Lego LOTR and Batman and Star Wars (but SW one sucks).

8. Dragon age or Mass effect: Er...what. 

9. Night owl or early riser: I do better working at night because I like to have an hour or so to wake up. So if I leave at 9 I get up at 6:30 so I can drink coffee and blink awake and watch a tv show before doing chores and getting ready.

10. Cards or chess: Cards - more for the memories that accompany them and because I’m hellishly impatient for Chess.

11. Chocolate or vanilla: Vanilla not because I’m vanilla but because chocolate can either be overwhelming or when in ice cream doesn’t taste like chocolate? Like why? It tastes like mystery brown flavor and I’m not into that.

12. Vans or converse: Converse for life. Black. With doodles on the white parts. Quotes and drawings. Being a cool kid way past the age I could pull it off (since I never could). I also have a blue pair that I drew the TARDIS on during the DW fanvolution but now don’t wear because they don’t match.

13. Lavellan, Trevelyan, Cadash, or Adaar: I feel dumb. I don’t know what these are. 

14. Fluff or angst: Angsty fluff. Like when the angst drenches your soul and in the darkest moment someone says the right thing that no one in real life has ever said to you and it’s like a sweet sweet salve. 

15. Beach or forest: Forest. I hate sand. I’m stupid annakin. And deep in my heart of hearts I’m still the wolf girl I was at 13 where I wore braces and boys jeans and tie dyed wolf t-shirts and braids in my hair with a bunch of friendship bracelets and wanted to be a psychic dragon rider or be raised by sentient wolves. So in the end...it’d be untrue to my nature (and to my secret shame wolf patronus) to not say forest where I used to dream of running away and finding my true pack.

16. Dogs or cats: I have two greyhounds (Fred & George), and a cat - Gandalf. That way I can introduce the bunch as Gandalf (and) the Greyhounds. Yeah. I’m serious. PM me for picture proof or check out insta @greyhoundgeorge

17. Clear skies or rain: Rain when I have nowhere to BE. If I can stay home and eat hot popcorn and drink cold water and snuggle on a couch under the blankets and put on an old movie or quiet film scores and pick up a book I want to read all in one go. That’s a little corner of heaven right there. But clear skies if I am going out to do something - if I’m doing something stressful and knowing I can go outside after to let the sun drench into the skin of my face and smile and take a breath and get a cold diet coke and congratulate myself on being brave and finishing out.

18. Cooking or eating out: Depends. Depends on how lazy I am and how broke I am and how hungry I am. I like cooking when I’m really hungry because then I can personalize everything to my own tastes and having leftovers I know will be yummy later. When I eat out/order take out I’m eating it all. Don’t be foolish.

19. Spicy food or mild food: Spicy food. Make my nose rain. I once drank a bowl of salsa in a Mexican restaurant. Like in Beauty & the Beast. Bowl to my mouth. Drank it down. My sisters hissed at me to stop. It was so good. So I drank theirs too.

20. Halloween/samhain or solstice/yule/christmas: Solstice, Yule, ***Christmas*** I am so into Christmas. I’m the dumbass that starts listening to carols too early in November. I’m wearing sweaters and sweating. I’m getting my peppermint hot chocolate. I’m the one viciously stalking that Christmas feeling that seems to get farther and farther away the older you get. Because I want it to last forever. I want to make sure my little sisters never lose it.

21. Would you rather forever be a little too cold or a little too hot: Too cold. I’m already hot all the time. It’s hell. And I sweat through my clothes and that’s embarrassing and uncomfortable. At least when I’m cold people feel pity for you. When you’re hot all the time everyone looks at you like a freak.

22. If you could have a superpower, what would it be: Hallucination/Projection. I’d be called “Storyteller” or “Story” and if I wanted you to think you were on a beach in Aruba, you would really see and feel it. I would be able to travel for free, protect myself through a veneer, and never have to harm anyone. And I could taste all food however I wanted even if it was just celery. I could look how I want to look, dress how I want to dress, make my world the reality I want.

23. Animation or live action: Live action. I think the nuances of character actors and their expressions bring something to a film that evokes a sympathetic response in the brain that cannot (currently) be copied in animation.

24. Paragon or renegade: Again. I’m a silly person who has no idea what this is.

25. Baths or showers: SHOWERS. Hot showers. Baths - like tea - are just stewing in dirt. In your own dirt. In a tub where you get to look at your knees and rest your wet head against the hard tile. Ew.

26. Team cap or team ironman: Captain America forever. Stucky and Steggy forever.

27. Fantasy or sci-fi: Fantasy at my heart of hearts. It appeals to my wolfgirl nature. But I’m an equal opportunist and love Sci Fi. Just watch out for those weird 1950s fantasy/sci fi crossovers about colonizing planets cuz those get WEIRD.

28. Do you have three or four favourite quotes, if so what are they:

"Do small things with great love.” - Mother Teresa

“Courage, dearheart.” - C.S. Lewis

“Don’t worry. Don’t worry.  Look up at the ceiling and breathe with those curiously fragile lungs and remind yourself don’t worry. All as it was meant to be. It was meant to be lonely, and terrifying, and unfair, and fleeting. Don’t worry.” - Welcome to Nightvale

29. Youtube or netflix: Netflix or Amazon Video yo

30. Harry Potter or Percy Jackson: Yeahhhh see I was too old when PJ came out. My youngest sister was reading it and even she thought it was under her age level. So HARRY POTTER FOREVER FOOLS. I mean, I cannot stress how much our family loves HP. We had a year when my youngest sister turned 11 she had a welcome to Hogwarts party in March, my family surprised me with a Horcrux Hunt 17th birthday Coming of Age in April, and my other sister turned 14 and got a Triwizard Cup party in May. My Mom listens to HP on Audible every night before bed. She can literally quote the first book word for word. We went to HP Wizarding World in FL before it opened on special passes when I was 19. If my mother wouldn’t murder us, our entire family would have matching HP tattoos. I write Marauders book fanfiction for my entire family to read and critique. We have sorted ourselves and own everything in our respective houses (a split R/G family). It’s our dream to go to Leaky Con together. We all have complete uniforms. Not just the robes. All of it. We know all the spells, have played all the dumb computer 2001 games and Wii games and Pottermore before it was lame and basically omg. HP FOR LIFE. (or LOTR). 

31. When you feel accomplished: When someone acknowledges I saw the problem and solution immediately but everyone else tried a bunch of things first and eventually realized I was right. #INTJ

32. Star Wars or Star Trek: I am very into both, and both my sisters have hard core taken a position on each camp. But if I had to choose, I would say Star Trek because of the massive cultural shift it caused, especially in featuring multi-racial characters and women in positions of science and power.

33. Paperback books or hardback books: Paperback if I’m reading it the first time and Idk if i’ll like it but then I want hardback (leatherbound tbh) of everything I’ve ever loved and read for my library I want to own like in B&B. 

34. Horror or rom-com: Ughhhhhhhh both suck. But I only like cerebral horror (like Sixth Sense) or intellectual horror (like Hannibal) because physical horror (torture), gross horror (teeth losing and pus), jump horror (basic) really aren’t interesting to me so I GUESS I’ll say rom-com.

35. TV shows or movies: TV shows streaming so I can binge them. Yep.

36. Favorite animal: Tigers! I’m so into tigers and know so much about them. The ONLY tiger fact I’ll bore you with right now is that lion roars are much shallower due to being lighter weight with less lung capacity so for the Lion King whenever the lions roar, it’s actually tiger roars to sound more macho.

37. Favorite genre of music: Alt rock or indie - coldplay, mumford, snow patrol, frank turner, damien rice, the wonder years, etc. 

38. Least favorite book: I know people are really into it now, but when I read it A Separate Peace sucked balls and everyone agreed. Also I once read this terribly written horror book Neverwhere. Actually I’ve read several such poorly written books that it honestly gives me hope that I can be an author if these dingbats can.

39. Favourite season: Winter before Christmas

40. Song that’s currently stuck in your head:  Help by the Beatles

41. What kind of pyjama’s do you wear: Old t shirt (usually huge) and pj pants or shorts

42. How many existential crisis do you have on an average day: Lol so many. Depends on the day. More like “my life is confusing and I have no idea what’s happening and everything is a chain reaction that hasn’t begun and I’m holding my breath praying for a fallout that’s marginally okay.”

43. If you can only choose one song to be played at your funeral, what would it be: “Penny Lane,” by the Beatles

44. Favourite theme song to a TV show: Buffy the Vampire Slayer or (honestly) Magic School Bus or Jimmy Neutron

45. Harry Potter movies or books: Books, where the inaccuracies aren’t too many to count

46. Favorite traditional food from your family: Tamales

47. Favorite decade from 1900-now: 1990s. But only 90s kids remember the 90s.

48. Worst habit? Thinking I can do it all.

49. Teach an old person to use the internet or stay for a week with a kid stuck in the “why” phase?: Kids. I love kids. Why phases are great. Sometimes I never outgrew mine, and adults always brush them off without actually taking time to explain why satisfactorily.  50. Who’s your favorite painter?: Claude Monet. 

51. Favourite flower?: Roses (trite) or bluebonnets. 

52. Boots or sneakers?: Sneakers now - boots in fall.

53. Abroad or at home?: Home if I could magically go back in time when “home” was everything I wanted and not a place to visit my mom in my old room with no clothes or friends.

54. Planning or spontaneity? Planning! But occasional spontaneity. 

55. Boxers or briefs? Boxers so that I can wear them as pajama shorts.

56. Hogwarts house? Better be...Gryffindor! 

I’m not tagging 56 people, so if you’d like to do this, tag me so I can read them! If you don’t want to, then just enjoy learning more about me. If it’s more than you wanted to know (and it probably is) feel free to ignore.

[todayandtodayandtoday]

eight keys, part one

ToSo A. gave me this book yesterday, 8 Keys to Recovery from an Eating Disorder, by the founder of Monte Nido. Today I woke up hella motivated, for once, so I started reading it. I think I’m going to try doing some assignments from it (in order, as I read cover-to-cover, because I’m not quite self-aware enough to decide concretely what I should and shouldn’t do), and put them on this blog. I’m also going to try to make this blog more active (no literally listen I knew that journal entry was going to be like The Only One I Made but ok. i’m back. for now.) and encourage myself to post on it by not just journaling on here but also reblogging recovery shit! Anyway.

writing assignment: your worst eating disorder day

Whew. There’s been a few. My thoughts go first to a day in November of last year – I have a memory like a sieve, so I’m making shit up right here, but I can imagine what the worst day probably was like. I would have gone to sleep the night before at ten or eleven, after trying to do my homework and eventually giving up before even starting. I’d have woken up to Orion’s claws in my toes at least twice or three times, and lain awake in bed from about 5 AM to 6AM before dropping back off until 7:30. I’d have spent ten or twelve of the twenty minutes I had before I had to go getting dressed fashionably and body-checking in the mirror and putting on lipstick, before rushing to my car, getting panicked when I couldn’t find it, and driving (speeding) to work. Chances are I forgot to take my meds. Let’s say this is a Thursday – I work until 9:30, hands shaking as I count pills, exchanging wisecracks with Deb, then feel enormously guilty and enormously relieved as I shuck my lab coat and dash back to my car. I park at the science center, and (if I’m not late already) grab a coffee from the Leaky Beaker before settling in for class. It’s Human Biology on Thursday mornings, so I settle into my creaky chair with my notebook and sketchbook in front of me, and listen with one ear to things I already know and triggering topics while I write down a bullet point every five minutes and draw and erase and draw and erase. Rinse and repeat for Abnormal Psych; I didn’t do the reading, so I’m learning everything like new and raising my hand to offer answers that I only get from personal experience.

I’ll walk out of the room at 12:20 and pause for a moment. Take a deep breath, my first of the day. Maybe sit in the Leaky for ten minutes, fighting off the lethargy in my limbs. Consider grabbing lunch; consider the long walk to Stone-D or Bates or, god forbid, tower; consider the Leaky or El Table; convince myself I don’t have money to spare for food; resolve not to eat. I’ll do the reading for my French class if I’m feeling particularly energetic and capable; if not, I’ll just slump in a chair and read on my phone until 1:25.

French class, always the same: skim-read the poems we were assigned and formulate opinions and analyses for them as we discuss. Stumble over my spoken French and feel horrendously inept; compare my body to what’s-her-face’s and my outfit to Sydney’s and doodle body-positive nudes in the margins of my book. If it’s Thursday, I get out of class at quarter to three; I’ll consider the impending Quidditch practice and wilt a little inside. Trudge to Munger and play with Orion, or play video games, or read more. If it’s a really good day, I might stop off at Pom for a bowl of cottage cheese and jam or a slice of bread with butter, but chances are that I’m already breathing hard when I reach Munger, and going up another hill is just too much for me. Maybe I’ll go to Quidditch practice at 5, in which case I’ll bounce off the walls with enthusiasm and socialization and push my body way farther than it can or should go; maybe I’ll skip it, curl up into a ball and do nothing.

Either way, I’ve got choir at 6, which means reapplying my lipstick and practically running to the chapel. I socialize for five minutes, accepting and giving compliments on appearance and memeing about with Shannon or discussing video games with Mackenzie. Choir practice is an hour and a half of struggling to focus, trying to doodle inconspicuously, and being so, so self-conscious of the sound of my own voice. Afterwards comes choir dinner, so I’ll go to Stone-D with everyone else, serve myself a small plate of food, and pick at it. Maybe finish half of it on a good day. I don’t want to be left alone to my thoughts and my homicidal cat, so I’ll extend an invitation to people to do pub night or just hang out and do homework. It’s inevitably declined, so I sulk back to Munger on my own, feeling unaccountably lonely. Feed Orion, maybe nibble on some candy or dried fruit if I have it, and back to our usual free-time activities of tumblr, reading, video games, and (if I have an assignment that I have to turn in, and if I don’t start to have a panic attack just thinking about it) homework. Inevitably, I’ll get overwhelmed with everything I have to do at some point, and cut myself while I read or watch Netflix. Multi-tasking, right? I didn’t have classes on Fridays last semester, so I’d maybe have a drink and maybe go to sleep late, knowing that I’ll wake up late tomorrow before a full day of work.

…Jesus. Jesus.

I wasn’t happy, was I? I felt like I was doing fine, but I can see in retrospect that I was doing ten times more than I should have, dropping weight like it was hot, losing energy like a leaky faucet, and seesawing rapidly between energetic euphoria and absolute exhaustion. It wasn’t sustainable. It wasn’t livable. It wasn’t enjoyable.

That’s what my eating disorder does to me.

Food (hah) for thought.

Stats (although it’s only 1:05 PM and I’ve been awake for, what, two hours?):

Today I have eaten:

(breakfast) coffee, vitamin water, about a half a cup of mac and cheese, about half a cup of french fries, and about a cup of steamed broccoli.

(snack) before I go to French this afternoon, I’m planning on eating that apple that’s still on my desk. Maybe a handful of peanuts, too.

Body positivity at 35%. I drew flowers on my arm in Sharpie last night, though, and I like looking at that.

Urges (1-10):

Suicidal: 0

Self-harm: 7

Restriction: 6

Purging: 4

Days since I’ve last self-harmed: 7

To do: memorize la jeune veuve by 3 today, put together a tattoo ref board/maybe draw a little somethin somethin, clean the litterbox, wash tupperware, think about cultural appropriation at monte nido, wgst reading for monday, finish that one drawing on the tablet