#the best part of finishing this degree will be getting a real job - but being free of nathalie is a close fucking second

[hydraxx]

well, i burned through all my day's energy trying to scrape up a fellowship application on an unexpectedly tight turnaround, and i've still got paid work left to do. great.

[andhumanslovedstories]

I’ve been struggling lately with the feeling that my job is pointless. Intellectually I know it is not—nursing is one of those professions where you get to be real smug about knowing the value of your work. But it’s still felt very pointless. Like I’ll start a shift thinking, “what am I even doing here,” and end it thinking, “what have I actually even done.” It’s been a ROUGH couple months.

But I had a really good shift last time I worked, which was good for the soul and also a very useful data point. I got to do pain management advocacy and symptom management, met a bunch of cool patients, did education for new nurses, and had several long heart to hearts, which the kind of midnight heart to hearts that I think are the most important part of night shift, all of that while being well staffed with very pleasant and appreciative patients and coworkers, and I was still like. Pretty depressed. I had a sense of satisfaction and moments of joy and meaning, but it turns out that one good shift did not cure the depression that has been latched on to me for the last few months like some kind of fucked up mental health leech. As I realized I was still depressed and that it was still interfering with my life even when everything was going well, the sense of peace washed over me was the best I’d felt in a while. Because I was like, okay! None of my usual stuff as worked! I have no excuse not to try something new to get my brain out of the shit ditch it’s slipped into.

So I’m applying for short-term disability. I’m worried I won’t get it, and I’m not sure what the next step is if I get rejected, but I feel so much better having decided to pursue it. It’s so much fuckin paperwork for sure, to a degree that’s overwhelming except that that the form could be a checkbox that says, “you want money?” and I’d be like “THIS IS TOO MUCH.” I’m totally not writing this post instead of finishing an email to my manager. I’m definitely not writing this post to avoid dealing with coordinating all my various care providers. I’m certainly not at every moment worried that I’m secretly faking all this so I can get three to nine weeks of a cool summer vacation.

I was thinking about how I almost flunked nursing school in my final semester because I turned in assignments late for a class with a “no late homework” policy. The professor said that this was reflective of real life, where if you miss deadlines you’re just fucked. I ended up appealing my grade and passing, because frankly it was a weak reason for making me repeat a final semester when there was no issues with my actual work or knowledge. During my appeal, I was like “I also think this policy is ableist. Harsh penalties for late work hurt students with health problems, especially chronic health problems when you aren’t asking for one week off due to the flu but instead for a general and never ending flexibility. I’m not trying to make an excuse but explain why this policy is a bad one. Disabled healthcare workers are an asset to healthcare.” I’m trying to remember my own argument as I pursue help. My depression and ADHD and eating disorder do help me be a better nurse, not because like depression gives you superpowers, but because I manage my chronic illnesses every day, in ways that range from hardly noticeable to life or death. Being kind to patients means being kind to myself, and vice versa.

I’m rambling. I really do not want to do this paperwork or send these emails. And I’m not sure if I deserve the leave I’m trying to take. But I miss being love with my job. I miss enjoying it. I wouldn’t judge someone else for going on medical leave, and my job doesn’t want me to burn out or quit. It almost feels like I have to be skeptical of applying for leave because no one else is. Everyone I’ve spoken to has been very supportive, including my manager. And considering how many unpaid days off I’ve had to take lately, disability leave would be an improvement over some of my recent paychecks. All in all, short-term disability makes sense and seems like a reasonable response to circumstances. But FUCK. I wish it required like 90 percent less documentation.

[romcomxdd]

AU where Mav n Ice managed to convince Bradley not to join the Navy.

(stick with me there’s hangster in here i promise-)

Instead of pulling Bradley’s papers, Mav and Ice sat down with Bradley and explained his mother’s wishes and their concerns. Really, they just had an adult conversation about it. Of course, Bradley was pissed, but more so at his mum than Maverick or Ice. Eventually he agreed, much to the older men’s relief, though Mav did feel a bit guilty about it. He knew Goose would have loved to see his son take after him.

Bradley took a few weeks to explore some other career options, he knew he still wanted to fly in some capacity. With his dads all being pilots, he’d had plenty of off the book lessons from them and all his honorary uncles. He had a knack for it. And he knew he wanted to help people. He had volunteered at his local fire-station for a few years and had acquired his basic first aid qualifications through that. But beyond that, he was lost.

Until he heard about Wilderness EMT’s. It was at at a careers expo Ice had dragged him along to after school and he really didn’t want to be there.

They wandered the expo for a while, until the first responders area caught his eye. Bradley looked through the police and fire rescue stalls first, took some pamphlets and asked a few questions, but nothing really struck him.

As Ice wandered off to look at the Navy section out of curiosity, Bradley lined up to look at the Paramedics stall. As he talked to the lady at the front for a bit, they got onto the topic of the specifics of her career. Before she had taken a job in recruitment, she had been a Wilderness EMT, basically a branch on paramedics where she was trained in search and rescue, providing medical aid to remote areas. This immediately sparked Bradley’s interest, it had the adrenaline he had been looking for, all whilst making a real difference for real people.

By the time Ice had returned, he had quizzed the lady for almost an hour and to say that he was excited was an understatement. The teen was practically bouncing out of his seat on the drive home.

‘I just need to get my general EMT certification, then do a wilderness specific training course as the basics.’ Bradley was grinning ear from ear. ‘Then from there I can do swift water, high angle rescue training and disaster response training. And a bunch of other short courses- but I can do those quickly- And that’s not even the best part!’

Ice bit his lip and kept quiet. He was happy for Bradley, of course, it was nice to see him so excited about something, but this sounded dangerous. It wasn’t the Navy, but still.

‘She said I can finish getting my pilots license and use that for search and rescue. And if I can get my helicopter license I can still fly!’ He grinned. ‘And it’s not gonna be dangerous like your job, but it’s still so cool.’

Ice nodded, still worried, but Bradley seemed serious about this. They’d already stopped him from one career opportunity, if they told him he couldn’t do this, Bradley may never talk to them again.

And as it turned out, he was dead serious about it. Within three years, Bradley had flown through his Paramedics degree, and got a job as a regular EMT. Whilst he worked, he continued with his helicopter license, and began ticking off the required courses. Another two years later, he was a fully qualified Wilderness EMT.

It had taken a while for Mav to get on board with the idea, but after seeing the fufillment in Bradley’s face when he came home after saving a life, he could help the pride that flowed through him. Goose would have been over the moon.

Bradley quickly excelled at his job, showing just how disciplined he was, both in the field and with the patients. His bedside manner was impeccable and had an incredibly cool head under pressure. He progressed fast, becoming a team leader in no time. There wasn’t as much room for advancement as there was in the Navy, but Bradley did what he could.

He loved his job and though it had one of the highest burnout rates in the country, he couldn’t see himself quitting anytime soon. He lived for the adrenaline of his work. Every day was different, he could be providing help to flooded communities, or hiking mountains in search of a missing person. It could be anything from pulling someone from an avalanche, or airlifting someone who’d twisted an ankle and didn’t feel like walking out.

And the sense of satisfaction he got after saving a life. Made him feel like he was in control. Like he could make a meaningful difference in someone’s life by getting them home safe.

Of course there were hard days. When someone died in transit, or they just couldn’t get them out in time. When their missing person just didn’t turn up. It could be traumatising, but he made sure to talk with Ice and Mav about it, or his work friends, there were so many people around him who knew how to cope. He figured it out pretty fast.

One day Bradley’s team got called to a pretty notable rescue. An F18 had gone into a flatspin during training somewhere over a mountain and the pilot had ejected. A pilot by the name of Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin. Hangman had ejected safely, but the descent through the trees had fucked up his ankle, and he couldn’t walk.

The Navy’s equipment hadn’t been advanced enough, so they had called on the WEMT’s, whom for this kinda mission was their bread and butter. (shush i’m taking creative liberties)

They found him quickly and Bradley was the one to cut him out of his parachute and bring him up to the helicopter. Just imagine Jake being half unconscious as a handsome moustachioed angel leans over him and tells him everything’s gonna be alright.

The ride back included an ever exasperated Bradley and a lovestruck delirious Hangman who had decidedly not injured his mouth and would not shut up. As they reached the hospital, Jake asked him out. Bradley surprised even himself by agreeing to it, he hadn’t been in a serious relationship in years, it could be nice to get back out there.

They grew close, fast. Though Bradley never explained why he knew so much about Jake’s job. Not until Jake was finally invited around to ‘meet the parents’. Just imagine his surprise when he walks into the Admiral Kazansky’s home, who is apparently married to his instructor. Bradley thought the look on his face was hilarious and he would bring up the moment at any opportunity for the next few years.

[effloradox]

what would you do, if you only knew (that i can see you)

thomas thorne x ghost hunter+fem!reader (set during season 2 episode 1)

synopsis: being able to see ghosts for most of your life almost seemed to force you into being a ghost-hunter of sorts (not that your boss is actually good at his job), it’s only on a trip to button house and a reunion with an old friend from your student days that your ability actually comes into use after a run in with a particularly dashing ghost

a/n: this is massively inspired by the song i can see you by taylor swift, the plot just came into my head after listening to it and here we are, it was meant to fulfil one of the requests i’ve been sent but it went so far from the prompt that i decided to make it a separate fic and do another fic for the prompt

-

If you’re being honest with yourself, you’re not sure how you ended up in the ghost hunting business. It’s not something you even thought was a real job when you were a kid, it seemed like something you'd see people doing in the cartoons you watched. It was only after a close call when you were a teenager that almost killed you that you realised that you could see ghosts.

It made living in London quite difficult, the sheer amount of people who’s spirit hadn’t moved on was difficult to deal with but you managed to set yourself up with the so-called Ghostmaster General and it gave you a steady stream of work going round the country with him seeing if the buildings were actually haunted or not. You’d never explicitly said you could see ghosts to your employer but you could express enough knowledge that he kept choosing you to go on the trips. When photos of a grey lady surfaced on Facebook and Twitter from a mansion in Hemel Hempstead your boss had called on you immediately to join him on the trip.

Button House didn’t seem to be any different than the countless other manor houses you’d seen over the past few years. It's in a worse state of repairs than you're used to but aside from that it seems like every other fake haunted house you've visited. You’d left your boss to sort out whether you were being allowed inside the house, not wanting to drag the many bags of equipment to the front gates if you were going to have to just bring them back to the van. It’s only when he gives you the go-ahead to go and start setting equipment up inside that you grab a few bags and make your way towards the entrance.

It's with a jolt of surprise that you realise you recognise one of the owners of the house. You’d been friends with Alison at university until the two of you had both finished your degrees and parted ways, keeping in touch only to wish each other a happy birthday or similar milestones.

“Alison, hey!” The woman looked your way at her name, and her face bloomed into a confused smile when her eyes fell on you.

“Hey! Oh my god!” She pulled you into a hug as soon as you were within arms reach and you did your best to reciprocate without hitting her with the equipment bag slung over your shoulder.

“This is your house?”

“Yeah, well it was my great-step-aunt’s house and I inherited it when she died.”

“That’s amazing! Much easier than trying to get lucky with London real estate.”

“So how did you end up doing this?” Alison gestures vaguely to the bag pulled across your shoulder. It’s all you can do to shrug your shoulders lightly, trying to look as blasé as possible as you readjust the strap before it starts to slip down.

“It pays the bills.”

You couldn’t help but notice how nervous Alison was about the whole situation she’d found herself in but you chalked it up to nerves about having so many strangers in her home and didn’t think to push it. She’s kind enough to give you directions up to one of the rooms near the attic that your boss has assigned for the thermal camera currently resting against your shoulder. You agree to a cup of tea and a catch up before making your way to the room.

Everything was going normally with the equipment setup until you suddenly heard a voice shouting down a corridor. It immediately pulled your attention from the camera you were setting up, your eyes trained on the closed door to the room you're in waiting to hear footsteps approaching. When silence lay steady, your focus returned back to the camera.

It takes a great deal of self-control to try not to flinch when a figure suddenly comes through the closed door. You try not to let your eyes flicker away from the camera but can’t help but quickly scan the figure. It’s not the grey ghost you saw in the pictures, the man is dressed like a scout for some reason and the only abnormal thing about him is the arrow sticking out of his neck. You can’t help but wince slightly at that, what a terrible way to go. The ghost is talking to himself apparently in a thick northern accent or that’s what you assumed until another ghost steps through the door.

It takes everything within you to not stare at this ghost. He’s clearly from a few hundred years ago based on his attire but he might be the most beautiful man you’re ever laid eyes on. He was mid-sentence when he walked through the door saying something about finding the others but his voice trailed off when he looked in your direction.

“But, soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and you are the sun.” The way his voice carries the words is nothing short of reverent and you can practically feel the embarrassment rushing through your body. It's not the first time a ghost has found you attractive but normally they're plague victims or half-mad, they don't normally look as though they've just stepped away from a recreation of Pride and Prejudice.

“Thomas! It's not polite to stare.” The scout almost looks apologetic which is quite sweet given that there’s no way he can know that you can see him but his words have done nothing to deter Button House’s version of Mr Darcy.

“And yet we hang the most beautiful paintings ever created in galleries so that the masses may gaze upon their beauty. Would you deny me a similar experience Pat?”

As nice as it is to have someone speak about you like that, you’re aware that it’s going to be very difficult to get through the night if you have a ghost following you and all but swooning over you. Part of you wonders if you could try and feign being sick but also you know how one-track minded your boss will be about this house and there’s no way he’ll be willing to leave to drive you into the nearest town to get a train back to London.

You hear the familiar sounds of the camera as it’s finally finished setting up facing the door and, as you expected, shows no sign of any heat signatures. You decide to leave your other bag in the room for now, choosing instead to go and find Alison. The two ghosts are mid-debate as to whether it’s polite to stare at someone who doesn’t know they’re being stared at as you walk over to the door.

It’s with slightly shaking hands that you twist the handle on the door, opening it as calmly as possible as you try to remember your way out of the house. You can hear the ghosts talking in the room and the voices don’t seem to be getting any further away but the only cohesive thought in your mind is that you have to track down Alison and ask her what she knows about the house.

“Hey, you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost.” Alison laughs nervously at her joke but it does nothing to relax you.

“I need to speak to you.”

“Okay?”

“Outside.” Alison must see something in your expression that worries her because she allows you to take her by the arm and gently leads you to the front door. It's only when the front door is closed behind you and you can't see anyone dead or alive around that you find your anxiety easing. When you stop moving, you make sure to have your back to the front door, if only to put yourself at ease.

“Are you okay?” You’re about to speak when a voice cuts through the silence.

“Alison! You must reveal the name of this fair maiden at once! Her beauty outshines the sun in a way I never believed possible up until this very moment.” You have to give credit to Alison, she's very good at hiding the flinch when a voice suddenly appears from through the front door. It's only from a lifetime of doing something similar that you catch it, and you watch her eyes darting to something behind you before looking back towards you.

“Sorry, did you say something?” To give Alison credit, her voice only wavers slightly after the interruption. Maybe it’s unfair of you but when you speak, you make sure to do so in a quieter tone than you would normally. You have to be sure that she can see and hear him before you say anything and if you can make it harder for her to hear you under the loud gushing of the ghost then you’ll do what you can.

“I think there’s something upstairs.” You try to pay close attention to any reactions that Alison has to your comment but it’s very difficult once the ghost appears by your side. Up close he really is gorgeous. It’s almost a shame he’s dead because if you saw him in public you’d want his number in a heartbeat. It’s very hard to not let your eye wander in his direction, especially when he’s so close to you. He hasn’t stopped talking since he appeared through the door and whilst you’re more than used to a chatty ghost, you can see that Alison is getting more and more distracted by him.

“Alison! I must insist you express how ardently I admire this fair lady immediately or I shall never give you a moment of peace!” The threat, however serious he is about it, seems to be the final breaking point for your friend, whose face shoots in his direction.

“Thomas, stop talking for one second!” Even the ghost seems surprised by her outburst, staring at her with wide eyes and an open mouth. She catches her mistake in an instant, staring at you with an almost mortified expression as she waits for your reaction.

“I’m guessing you have more than two ghosts here then?”

“What?” Alison’s voice is tentative, like she’s waiting for you to either laugh in her face or run away screaming. “You don’t think I’m crazy?”

“I can see them too.”

“What?!” You don’t blame Alison for being surprised, it’s not something you ever told her during your time as students, not even when you had both had a bit too much to drink and your secrets spilled easily. You’d learned early into your time seeing ghosts that telling people the truth was a quick way to alienate yourself from friends and peers alike. It was much easier to lie and say you were just an anxious person by nature who startled easily than to explain that you flinched every time you saw a particularly gruesome looking ghost.

“Sorry for not telling you. Pat seems really nice.”

“Oh my god.” A beat passes as the news sinks in, and then another wave of acceptance seems to reach Alison and with it comes another shout. “Oh my god! You can hear him?” She points in Thomas’ direction and the ghost in question has the good grace to look somewhat mortified by the idea you’ve spent the past thirty minutes listening to him regale you with compliments that he thought you couldn’t hear.

“I can.” For a ghost that’s just spent the better part of an hour showering you with compliments, he suddenly seems unable to string a sentence together. It’s easy to put him out of his misery though. “You’re very handsome by the way. I’m very flattered.” His face goes red at the compliment and, for the first time since he appeared in front of you, he seems genuinely speechless. Alison seems to be in a similar state.

“Does your boss know?”

“Absolutely not! I didn’t want to spend most of my adult life being ridiculed for something no one would ever believe to be true. Have you told anyone?”

“Mike knows. Kind of hard not to tell him with so many of them.” Mike is quickly making his way into your good books with everything you hear about him and you make a mental note to buy him a nice bottle of wine for being such a supportive husband.

“How many have you got?”

“Too many.” You let out a soft noise of consideration before turning to the still shocked ghost standing beside you.

“Would you introduce me to your friends?” Thomas seems to snap out of his shock at your request, bowing slightly and extending a hand in your direction. It’s a sweet gesture even though both of you know you can’t physically take his hand.

“It would be my pleasure.”

“I’ll uh, catch up with you later?”

“You might want to worry about the twenty-something ghost hunters running amok in your house first.” Alison pales slightly at the reminder of what situation has brought the three of you to where you currently are.

“Oh god. I need to go and find Mike.” Your friend is quick to dash back inside her house, leaving the door open for you and Thomas to follow her. Manly you, since he could just phase through the door again.

“Shall we Lady-uh…” It’s only in that moment that you realise Alison never actually told Thomas your name and you’re quick to correct that.

“(Y/N).” You supply.

“Lady (Y/N).”

“We shall.” Thomas walks towards the house first, waiting just beyond the door for you to follow him. Your only thought as you walk through the door is that you hope you don’t run into your boss for the next thirty minutes or so otherwise you might have some explaining to do.

[carleycore]

When they insult you(Kenma and Oikawa)

A/N this blog is so weird- It’s like 400 styles in one.

Genre: Angst (it’s not SUPER bad- I can write a part two as comfort if y’all would like that)

Warnings: Insults obvi, pregnant reader(oikawa)

Part two

(not having a job)

Being with Kenma is wonderful. He never looks at other girls, fights you, and always is there to support and love you, so of course you did the same.

You’ve been dating him since high-school so you were there for him through his volleyball days all the way to his billionaire status. Naturally, you both loved and were there for each other unconditionally, so it was no surprise when he got down on one knee and proposed.

Currently the two of you were in the process of wedding planning which was super fun, but stressful as hell. 

Kenma made enough money from streaming and his business and he loved to stream. So he was still working when he really didn’t need to. 

You’d quit your job to focus on the planning and all had been going well.

Now the week was two months away and all you had left was the finishing touches.

All of the major stuff was done, and now all you had to do was plan the little things. Little things that would’ve been really helpful to have your fiancé's input on, so you opened his door slowly to see if he was streaming, which he was, but he was in the middle of a break.

“Hey baby,” you smiled, walking over to sit on his lap, “are you busy right now?”

You couldn’t tell when you walked in, but he seemed pissed off. 

“I’ve been streaming for four hours. All I want is a break, what do you want?” He responded harshly.  

“Just turn off the stream, I wanna talk about wedding stuff,” you bargained. 

“One of us has to work, Y/N. I know it’s fun to just lounge around on the couch and pick flowers but I have a real job. A job I need to support you and this lavish wedding you want.” 

After hearing this, you simply got up and left the room. If that was truly how he felt, so be it. There didn’t have to be a wedding after all.

Going into a guest room and slamming the door, you instantly started applying for jobs. Kenma knew you were waiting until you finished college to get a job again, and that he’d support you through getting your masters degree. But clearly, that was a lie. 

And you wouldn’t force him to support you any longer.

(Not dressing up)

You were 20 weeks pregnant. Finally at the point where it didn’t just look like you ate a lot. It looked like you were growing a baby. This also meant that it was getting harder to find an outfit that wasn’t just a shirt that was streched out too much, or an ugly maternity dress that made you look even fatter than you felt. Thankfully, Oikawa was there for you ever step of the way. Buying you new things to try on, encouraging you, and telling you how beautiful you looked. But his views changed one day.

Now you and your husband, Oikawa, were walking around the grocery store. Just buying food for the week when one of his old classmates came up to him.

She was pregnant too, and shopping for groceries with her husband. The only difference was she was absolutely glowing. Her bump fit her nicely, and the dress she was wearing looked amazing on her. It gave her a very cheery vibe.

Since you didn’t go to Aoba Johsai, you didn’t know them. So, you just smiled and looked at the food intently, as if you didn’t know what you were going to grab. 

After a while they left and Oikawa’s mood seemed to have worsened.

“What’s wrong babe?” You asked, trying your best to keep up with the speed that he walked to the cash register, “and we’re missing a few things.”

“Why can’t you look more like Nami? She’s 24 weeks and she still dresses nicely,” He complained, gesturing towards your Crocs, T-shirt, and sweatpants.

“I’ve tried, nothing you good on me,” you were about to cry. You didn’t know if it was pregnancy hormones or if it was the fact that your husband was berating you in public. It was a good thing the cashier had her airpods in and the store was fairly empty.

“Well maybe you should stay home then. It’s embarrassing when my friends’ wives look better than my own,” he grumbled, picking up the pancake mix and syrup you put in the basket, “seriously? Are you trying to look like a whale?” 

Instead of explaining how HIS child was craving it, you simply put it back on the shelf and was silent the entire way home.

That night, after putting everything up and showering you rolled on your side of the bed alone. When he wrapped his arms around your bump as he did every night, you pushed him off. Ignoring him when he tried to apologize and reason with you.

The next day when he apologized, bought you new clothes, jewelry, and the food you wanted you still didn’t talk to him.

It’d take a lot more than bribery for you to forgive his actions. 

THIS BELONGS TO CARLEY-CHAN 2023 DO NOT REWORK/REWRITE!!

reblogs and likes appreciated <3

[djarins-cyare]

✨Questions Tag Game✨

Thanks for tagging me @burntheedges 🩵

Of course I’m going to add GIFs and images. Did anyone really expect me to post something without visual aids??

[photos are my own (apart from the one immediately below, which is from here), and unless otherwise credited, GIFs were made by me during office hours when I was supposed to be working… 🤫]

Do you make your own bed?

Not in terms of making it look all neat and tucked in, no. But that’s because I’m a teensy bit of a germaphobe, and humans naturally sweat at night, which means you must leave your mattress uncovered for a while after you get up to ensure it airs. So, for most of the day (because I forget to straighten it up), my bed just looks like this:

(Just for fun, how many Mandalorians can you spot in the pic?)

Favourite number?

It’s always been 2, and my reasoning used to be that all good things come in pairs. But having discovered my autism in recent years, I’ve come to realise it probably more likely represents the maximum number of people I’m most comfortable interacting with at any one time. So it’s a manageable number. It’s also an even number. And it’s a prime number (in fact it's the only even prime number). It’s a pretty number – it has a nice curved top and a solid, sturdy base. It stops 1 from being lonely, so it’s a kind number.

Is this a weird answer? All of these are really logical reasons to me!

[GIF found here]

What’s your job?

It’s become so specialised that I no longer have a job title, but I started as a legal PA for one of the senior partners at a Legal 500 law firm in London. I flirted with the idea of qualifying as a solicitor but realised there was no way in hell I’d be comfortable standing up in court and speaking in front of lots of people (and I work in the criminal law department so not keen on casually chatting to criminals either). Instead, I decided to become The Person Who Knows Everything.

So now I write briefs to Counsel, proofs of evidence, funding applications; I analyse evidence, conduct legal research, advise the solicitors on their cases; I train paralegals and admin staff; I do a load of data analysis and make pretty spreadsheets for the bosses; and I manage the firm’s IT needs because I can do computer stuff too. I’m basically their go-to girl for anything that seems complicated or time-consuming… and I don’t have to wear a stupid wig in court.

And the best part is, during Covid lockdown, I demonstrated I can do 100% of my job from home, so I was allowed to move 150 miles away, and I now only have to visit my office two days a month! 🙌🏻

Downside: the arduous and random nature of the job means I’m never up to date and always very tired.

If you could go back to school, would you?

My original plan after getting my undergrad degree was to do a Masters and PhD and become an academic, but I put all that on hold for my (now ex) husband so he could finish his PhD and first postdoc. I’m very glad I never went back, though, because I realise that academia is not the place for me… see above comment about not being able to stand up and talk in court to understand why standing up and talking in a lecture hall would be equally nerve-wracking for me. So, no, I’m content with my current level of schooling.

Honestly, university was more about learning how to ‘adult’ properly than obtaining any useful knowledge on the course anyway (she says, routinely using concepts learnt on her fiction writing modules when crafting Mando fics).

Can you parallel park?

Yup. Narrow roads and a lack of parking spaces in the UK kind of make it a non-optional skill here.

That said, I do sometimes see people desperately trying to line themselves up to get into a space and making an absolute farce out of it, so I guess maybe some people here think it’s optional, but I’d rather not have that kind of stress, so I practised until I could do it easily.

[original GIF found here and then cropped]

Do you think aliens are real?

The way this is phrased… do I think they’re real? Like, do I think the grey ones with big black eyes are anally probing residents in certain sections of North America on a regular basis? Hmm, no. Too many episodes of The X-Files. I mean, Fox Mulder: yum, but I really Don’t Want To Believe, thanks.

But, I remain open to the idea that alien life has evolved elsewhere in the known universe. It’s inconceivably huge, after all. There’s nowhere near enough data to prove (or even speculate) either way – just look at the Drake equation, which has been used to both ‘prove’ and ‘disprove’ the possibility – so I’ll reserve any kind of judgment until some real evidence appears.

Can you drive a manual car?

Yeah, of course. It’s the standard driving test in the UK and allows you to drive both automatic and manual – you actually have to specifically ask to learn only automatic if you decide you can’t handle gears. And, like, it’s all muscle memory, so it’s really not as hard as people think once you’re used to it. I tried to drive an automatic a few years back and found myself involuntarily shadow-shifting the gears!

[original GIF found here and then trimmed for length]

What’s your guilty pleasure?

Mostly, I don’t feel guilty about indulging in pleasures these days. I used to be really affected by social pressures (back before I discovered my autism and still felt like I had to ‘mask’ and fit in), so I used to feel guilty talking about my hyperfixations, but now I couldn’t care less. I shall consume them endlessly and unselfconsciously. It’s very liberating.

Any phobias?

I suppose the answer is sharks, which has no sensible basis for being a phobia because I’ve never had any real encounters to make me fearful (thank fuck!). In fact, I walked through the shark tunnel at SeaWorld just fine as a 7-year-old. Unless that planted some kind of seed of terror, I don’t know. Not sure when it really took hold, but I can’t even look at photos these days. It’s their damn teeth. Someone’s going to have to give me a tooth report on Gladiator II before I can go see it.

The hell if I’m gonna put a photo (or God forbid a GIF) of a shark here, so, umm…

Favourite childhood sport?

Two answers: (1) Football (AKA soccer). I played for a girl’s team when I was about 11, but it was only because the boy I liked was into football. I couldn’t give a shit about it these days, and I don’t think I ever really liked it – I was just ‘masking’, as I did for most of my childhood, but I convinced myself I loved it.

(2) Karate, which I decided all by myself that I fancied doing, then found I was actually quite good at it and excelled at it for a while. But I was 9, and they decided I was so good that I should go and join the adult class (age 14 and up), which I hated, so I quit.

[GIF is one I already had saved from Reddit a while ago, but I can't find the source anymore, so sorry for not crediting the maker]

Do you talk to yourself?

Sometimes, but not often. I live alone, so I occasionally just need to exercise my vocal cords lol. It also depends on what mood I’m in. On an average day, no, I don’t really feel the need to fill the silence, but if I’m excited/animated/annoyed in some way, I might say stuff aloud. Basically, if I’m inclined to utter curse words for any reason, I’ll probably use other words aloud too.

[GIF found here]

Tattoos?

I only have one right now, but I plan to increase that number someday. See photo below; I used to have chameleons as pets and got this tattooed near my right hip when I turned thirty to commemorate them. It’s really small.

I would like to get a phrase in Mando’a inked on me somewhere, probably “Kaysh meg miit’gaana, oyacyi”, which means “she* who writes, remains” [*substitute chosen pronoun – Mando’a doesn’t distinguish genders], and is a Mandalorian proverb teaching that you can live forever if you leave behind written words. I have it engraved on my iPad.

Favourite colour?

Very much the blue (with a hint of green) end of the colour spectrum. For something soft, duck egg blue, or for something bold, teal. See the colour of the titles in this post.

I also like the colours of hyperspace and would happily snuggle up with Din in the cockpit.

Do you like puzzles?

Yeah, I guess. I don’t dislike them. But I don’t really do them much. In terms of the crossword/sodoku/brain teaser sort, I might choose to do them in specific settings, like on vacation when I inevitably need to offer my brain something different than whatever book I’m binge-reading.

In terms of the jigsaw type, I have short phases of thinking, “Ooh, that’ll be fun!”, trying to do one, getting bored, and then forcing myself to finish. Last time that happened was Covid lockdown. Took me a year! Though, to be fair, it was one of these bastards…

Okay, I’m done. I realise I’m very late to the party, and a lot of people have already done this one, so sorry if you’ve already participated. No pressure (and no need to illustrate with gifs and images, I just can’t help myself)… 🩵

@604to647 @beefrobeefcal @d4rm4nd4 @feral-ferrule @gracieheartspedro

@joelslegalwhre @littlemisspascal @magpiepills @penvisions @quicksilvermad

@secretelephanttattoo @studioghibelli @syd-djarin @the-mandawhor1an @zaddymandalorian

[iamnmbr3]

Not sure if you’ve answered this before, but if one of Voldemort’s Horcruxes successfully and fully came back, what exactly do you think would’ve happened and what it [the fully formed Horcrux] would’ve done? Would there just be two [or more] Voldemort’s walking around? Do you think any of his horcruxes coming to life was/is a major flaw in his plan—that he only wanted his soul(s) to be safe in the objects he placed them in, not actually come out and walk around freely? 

This is a really fascinating question. It certainly seems that he didn't have any plans for his Horcruxes to be allowed to roam around freely given that he was about 55 when he lost his powers the first time and doesn't seem to have released any of his Horcruxes into the world. Given that they are supposed to be his super secret links to immortality that makes sense. Best to keep them hidden and safe and out of the way.

It's not clear how the Horcruxes feel about this - or if they feel anything about it at all. Are they aware inside their vessels 'I Have No Mouth And I Must Scream' style (sure hope not!) or are they in a sort of stasis unless a potential possession victim picks them up? Obviously if they're awake and aware the whole time they definitely want OUT since I can't imagine any version of Tom being happy to be kept in a cage (not that anyone would like being trapped in that situation).

Also, are they all as sentient as the diary? I've always headcanoned that you have to sacrifice a part of yourself to create a Horcrux and that's why Tom's appearance changes a bit over the years (though I think he didn't get all snake faced till after his Nagini-assisted resurrection) and furthermore that he used a bit of his memories to create the diary.

This could mean that the diary has more of a sense of self than the other Horcruxes. However, Dumbledore certainly seems to think that the degree of awareness and independence that Diary!Tom exhibited was a key indicator that he was a Horcrux. Which suggests that Horcruxes in general are like that. That's also the more interesting reading imho.

I do wish we got to see more interactiveness from the other Horcruxes in book 7. I guess JK Rowling thought a Locket!Tom that was highly interactive and posed a genuine threat and also maybe created a moral quandary because killing him would feel more like killing a real person would detract from the endless camping scenes and low-stakes circular drama by making things too exciting and interesting.

There's also the question of whether diary!Tom could actually have come all the way out of the diary and had a fully corporeal form where he could walk around and use magic and do stuff or if he would've been still bound to the diary in some way. But that's an aside.

As to what they would do. Well, in book 2 diary!Tom doesn't seem that interested in going to the aid of his other self. He knows that he successfully made at least 1 Horcrux and thus isn't actually dead. And he may well know there are more out there too since he planned on it and since his other self may well have written in the diary at some point. And yet he's more interested in escaping the diary and learning about how Harry survived and then trying to finish the job of killing him himself. Rescuing his other self doesn't seem to be high on his list of priorities. He might get around to it eventually, perhaps figuring it would be the pragmatic thing to do. Especially since Dumbledore would definitely recognize him and figure out what he must be, so he can't just blend in as Tom Riddle indefinitely. Then again. Maybe he tries to strike out on his own.

The other Horcruxes might be similar in that regard - with their own agendas first and foremost but still also interested in the wellbeing and goals of their other self/selves. Depending on the exact context and circumstances I feel like Tom would either not get along with himself at all (but also be forced to a sort of uncomfortable stalemate because obviously neither Tom wants to actually destroy the other) or else get along way too well. I think both dynamics are very fun and interesting to explore in fic.

[poppet-siphonophore]

This is a post about Sylvester Lambsbridge from Web Serial Twig by Wildbow. He's Plural Btw.

(Warning: Major Spoilers for LITERALLY ALL of Twig. I can't talk about this without covering the entire story and talking very explicitly about the ending.) This is really a take I haven't seen anyone make about him ever before I don't think (not that many people are out here making takes about Sy, but) so here I am to loudly shout to twigblr that Sylvester Lambsbridge is plural and he makes factives of all the people important to him and he's a fucked up little freak about it. Now obviously Wildbow didn't write him to be plural. I think if he'd *tried* to write Sy that way he would've done a dogshit bad awful job, because he's Wildbow. That said, Sy's hallucinations of the Lambs (and later a number of other notable figures) that he conjures, who act with varying degrees of independence (especially later on in the story as he gets more unstable), match pretty closely with a lot of my experiences with being plural. The ways that each of his alters are interconnected and how they're tied into deep-rooted concepts (Duncan is Politics and Social Engineering, the Infante representing Power, etc) matches a lot with how things are structured with us. Also a lot of him is tied up in his fucked up relationships! Sylvester cultivates the people around him into the shapes that best please him. He does this because he is a very very traumatized, scared individual who was sold to or seized by the government and made into a child assassin when he was a toddler. They inject his brain full of neuroplasticity drugs which cause excruciating agony on the regular. This has, naturally, leads to him having an somewhat skewed worldview from someone from a more reasonable world. He views people as either Threats or Allies, and neither can be trusted fully, ever. Both can be manipulated, though for different purposes. For the Lambs of course he'd say that he was trying to help them thrive, help them get everything they want (and genuinely he does). But he still manipulates them actively, willingly, consciously, and deliberately. This means that fundamentally, no one can ever trust him (except Jessie but this post is long enough without getting into their relationship) and so he can't get the kind of human connection that he craves. This is where his alters supplement that human need for connection. All of Sy's alters are factives of real people (and monsters), both allies and enemies. The most powerful and concrete of them are the Lambs of course, as they're the closest thing he has to people he can trust and be vulnerable with. His alters serve to help him understand and predict them, since they will never trust him and open up to him in the way he craves (because A) he's Sy and B) they're all also sooooooooooooooo fucked up in their own ways :3). Sy's deteriorating memory also fits really really well through this lens because, well, dissociative amnesia! During the time that he was on his own and his mental state got worse and worse, more and more alters started forming. He starts losing more and more memories. This is just kinda stuff that can happen when you go through a big period of trauma and you're plural. It really just Fits. And the ending of Twig, well. The alter that was Sylvester is gone. Now the host is Lord Simon. Lord Simon is a somewhat more integrated person; a lot of the crowds and voices that built up alongside Sylvester got woven in. Fusion of alters is also a thing that happens, especially during big crises. A major headspace restructuring is also not particularly weird! This man is literally just part of a system. I think I've kind of finished what I was trying to say. No clue if this is coherent or if the people will care to read it, but here it is! Maybe I'll post more Twig thoughts in the future, who knows :3

[lesb0]

miss terra what is museum curating like? i recently felt very strongly like it would be something im good at but im worried about overthrowing my whole life plan for one very specific career (i am currently studying physics, have always enjoyed reading and writing and painting and visiting museums but never thought i would want to pursue an art career). mostly the detail oriented part appeals to me and i think selecting and arranging the pieces and writing their descriptions is something i would be good at but im wondering if i have a romanticised view of the job bc it also seems to be an administrative and supervisor position? also how much freedom would i get in choosing the subjects of exhibitions like would i have to do exhibitons about art that i viscerally HATE (im really picky) thank you in advance<3

Its hard work! you need professional degrees in art history + museology to touch anything over 50 years old. A lot of it is social engineering/institution politics, you have to navigate the hierarchy with perfect subordination. day to day is managing a lot of pretentious neurotic peoples impossible egos all fighting for top billing on a project. you don't control anything, the board of directors does. at my level, you'll learn to feed leaderships' giant egos and get the job finished without breaking into wwiii.

As for exhibitions, your director will loan and order the artists she wants to work with for a show and you might be called over for input but she really just wants you to say how genius the project is and how excited you are lol! your lead curator and coordinator/s will make terrible creative choices, your job is to best serve their vision exactly as they imagined it. half your job is just sitting still in your little shared office cubicle back of house and waiting for the higher ups to see your mockups so they can say, "good job!"

in this post Fred Wilson era, a lot of museum work is just mitigating potential backlash, assuming everything from a collection has already pissed somebody off. that being said, I've learned through work experience that I prefer museum education, publicity, and registrar roles to curatorial. but in museums, your real job never stops at the description. everyone does everything. interns do conservation and greetings. janitorial directs floor traffic to find lost kids. directors scrub paint spots off the floor and do the rag laundry. wages for full time serious mid career positions start at $12 /hr. seriously.

and not to deter you at all from a museum career! to ME, this is all absolutely worth it!! the passion, pride, and reward of opening reception is something you can't price. watching everyone engage deeply with my project is enough. theres no other job I would rather have :-)

of course, its also totally possible to go the uneducated independent route, if you can do it part time as a hobby, sticking to smaller contemporary galleries, posting on insta frequently, and writing for local artists, often pro bono, etc.

[deathbycoldopen]

I finished the first season of the live action ATLA, and I have to say my reaction is… mixed.

I went into it determined to have an open mind, and there was definitely a good chunk that I enjoyed! For one thing, I love what they did with both Suki and Yue, taking advantage of the longer episode lengths to give them both lives and motivations beyond just “pretty girl that Sokka crushes on” (Suki obviously gets more depth in the og show during seasons 2 & 3, but Yue has always struck me as a rather one-dimensional character).

The best (if traumatizing) choice was to actually show the Fire Nation attack on the airbenders. Doing so gave a real emotional heft to Aang being displaced a hundred years with the weight of failing to prevent a past genocide, and the pressure of having to stop another without any idea how. Not only that, but it did a great job of indicating, right at the start of the show, that this was an adaptation indenting to transform what was fundamentally a kids’ show with complex themes into an adult series with the ability to really expand on that depth and complexity.

…and then it didn’t.

Oh, the show pokes at the repercussions of Iroh having waged a long and deadly siege agains Ba Sing Se, and it does a decent job at deepening the fuckery that is Zuko’s backstory. But so much of the more ambiguous or complex parts of the original have been flattened in this adaptation—and not in ways that can be explained by the compressed narrative. Instead, it feels like the sanitized story and characters are a direct result of a purity culture that demands all things black and white, never shades of gray.

Let’s look at Zuko, the villain-turned-hero with an iconic but bumpy redemption arc in the original series. Part of what makes Zuko’s story so goddamn compelling in the original is that he begins as a true villain, who does some horrible things and is led astray more often than not by his explosive temper; and yet his horrifying backstory and desperation for a loving family that never actually existed compel us to view him with some sympathy, even as he acts against our protagonists.

Yet in the adaptation, Zuko is consistently painted in a softer, kinder light than he was in the original. He has no hand in burning down the village on Kyoshi Island; he hears Aang out and even seems to consider Aang’s offer of friendship rather than immediately lashing out after the Blue Spirit reveal; he is notably more respectful to Iroh and loses his temper much less frequently and violently.

Even the change of Zuko fighting back against Ozai in the agni kai can be construed as him recognizing that Ozai is the bad guy, especially when it means that in order for his exile to make sense he has to defy his father again after he’s already been burned.

This is a pattern that is repeated with nearly all of the characters with any degree of ambiguity. Pakku is depicted as kind of a decent person who’s just being held back by his deference to tradition, rather than being pretty much an asshole regardless of whether he’s following tradition or not. Hahn is a nice guy who is in love with Yue but accepts her decision not to marry him, instead of a dick that sees her as a trophy and is more than happy to marry her despite her disinterest.

Sokka is a huge victim of this flattening of flaws. His early-show misogyny is entirely absent, making his stumbling with Suki a little odd and ungrounded, and his dismissal of Katara’s skills even more so. The narrative doesn’t allow him to be anywhere close to as boneheaded and stubborn as he is in the original—this version of Sokka would never angrily slash through the swamp despite the warning signs, or blatantly lie to Won Shi Ton and then even more blatantly steal from him.

Sokka isn’t even allowed the most understandable tactical mistake from the original show: using the air ship in the fight at the Northern Air Temple, and inadvertently delivering the Fire Nation’s greatest asset. That honor is given to a generalized “spies” that are distanced even from Sai himself.

If the heroes aren’t allowed to have flaws, the villains are even worse off, without anything that might make them sympathetic. Jet, who in the original sits in a similar in-between place as Zuko, is pushed firmly on the side of villain over the course of his two-episode arc. Instead of Jet fighting dirty against Fire Nation colonists who are nevertheless civilians, he bombs buildings in Omashu; it’s easier to denounce him when he’s hurting Earth Kingdom civilians with his tactics, rather than people who may or may not be complicit in the war. He’s even labeled a terrorist, an easy buzzword for a largely usamerican audience to point to and say “ah yes, that’s a bad guy.”

The main villains— Ozai, Zhao, and even the brief scene of Sozin— are ironically even more cartoonishly evil than in the animated show. Ozai and Sozin both declare their evil plans— out loud, with villainous aplomb— to use one major military movement as a distraction for another, even bigger movement. (Sozin’s plan at least made sense, in that the distraction was “leaked” intelligence rather than an actual deployment of troops. How the hell did Ozai have enough troops and a decent supply line to attack both the Northern Water Tribe and Omashu at the same time? And it’s not like the distraction actually served any purpose, since it’s explicitly stated several times that the separate nations don’t send aid to each other anymore.)

Ozai’s treatment of Zuko is even more abusive than in the original, especially with the aforementioned change where Zuko actually does fight back as ordered. His choice to burn Zuko and then later banish him then must be explained by Zuko showing compassion, a much more typically “evil” motivation than the more complex (though no less abusive) notion of Zuko dishonoring himself.

Zhao gets an even worse character lobotomy, which is impressive given that his original character is pretty unabashedly villainous. But rather than a devious, powerful, and ambitious commander looming over everything Zuko or Team Avatar does, this version of Zhao is cartoonishly incompetent. (It doesn’t help that the only thing I’ve seen Ken Leung in is Person of Interest, where he plays a similarly buffoonish character constantly in need of rescue. When held up against Jason Isaacs’ mesmerizing but intimidating voice in the original, there’s no comparison.)

Zhao is no longer a respected military leader but a backwoods commander who barely passed the exam to become an officer; his rise through the ranks isn’t due to military successes or a commanding presence but because Azula finds him easy to manipulate; cutting Jeong Jeong means that we don’t see Aang get the better of Zhao by playing on his temper and lack of control; even discovering the secret of the moon and ocean spirits seems more like blundering luck than actual determination and intelligence. You can’t take Zhao seriously as a threat in this adaptation, even when he’s killing the moon spirit and destroying the balance of the world— he’s a nuisance at best, with Azula as the real looming danger.

Disliking Zhao’s character changes might just come down to a matter of taste, of course. I’m always going to be more interested in intelligent, competent characters, whether they are heroes or villains. But it forms part of this pattern of flattening characters and plots and arcs, and brings me back to the fundamental question that kept hitting me over the head while watching the series.

Why?

Why make an adaptation? This is a question that comes up whenever an adaptation of anything is made: what does the adaptation bring to the table that the original did not? Often the answer to this question is money, but there’s usually an attempt to point to a different answer, if only to distract from the greed.

Sometimes the answer is simple— a translation, for example, is an adaptation made to reach a wider audience. Sometimes the answer is more complicated— changing Lord of the Rings from books to movies, as another example, took advantage of the music, acting, and visuals to pack more emotional punch than the books did.

I would argue, as I began to at the start of this post, that the benefit of adapting ATLA from an animated kids show to a live action series is the bucking of those “kids show” limitations. ATLA deals with a lot of serious, heavy topics that don’t get fully explored because they are too complicated and intense to be greenlit in a network show aimed at 10 year olds. In addition, ATLA (and particularly Legend of Korra after it) faced an uphill battle to portray some more sticky topics such as queerness, in part due to the time period when they were produced.

A live action show produced by Netflix seems to bypass all those hurdles, allowing for a darker and more socially progressive show than what the original was able to accomplish. But despite showing onscreen the destruction of the Air Nomads, the adaptation of ATLA seems more sanitized than the original, playing to the lowest common denominator in a way that the original never did, despite the latter being a kids show and the former ostensibly being for adults.

I came away from the new series with a bad taste in my mouth, even with some things that I really enjoyed, and I think this is the crux of why. The adaptation didn’t update the original; it stripped it of anything that might be deemed problematic and replaced it with a black and white worldview that is, in fact, antithetical to the themes of the original show.

After all, the creators seem to have reasoned, who would root for Zuko’s redemption if he actually needed redemption in the first place?

[nahalism]

for the past two days now, i have been feeling slightly off my normal frequency which manifested physically. i put a lot of pressure on myself to do better and get things right. just because i feel things are moving slow for me. i see people my age owning a car, being married, having children or in a relationship and i’m none of that yet. my career isn’t stable and i look after myself (all bills on me). it’s exhausting and almost embarrassing that i can’t save enough to cater for some of my needs. i have a degree and i’ve been applying for the right jobs, yet, nothing. i have a job. thankfully but the pay is just not enough.

how do you get out of a funk like this? how do you find peace with self when your life feels stagnant?

hey <3 something i read on here once that saved me was, 'your effort will not betray you'. it meant two things to me at the time. 1) if i stay true to my path & keep up the hard work, i will inevitably reap what i have sowed, (a comfort) 2) that what i reap is in direct relation to what i have worked toward (room for correction). it was a correction because i realised i needed to do more of what i wanted to see in my life, not more of what i thought it took to be the the kind of person who i imagined would have those things. (example) sometimes, we want to be in a relationship, so we work harder at work. the two dont tally, but we assume someone financially stable makes a good partner, so blindly double down on the wrong course of action. the reality is, someone financially stable, is someone financially stable. being a good partner is a different skillset with its own and separate requirements. as such, the best way to prepare for having a thing, is to do that thing. — peace comes from clarity. so your first step is to be clear on what is it YOU want (not where it is you think you should be). if your comparing, you're looking toward other people to gauge where you at, with no real conception of what the reality they face entails, which is dangerous, shortsighted and misleading. each of us has different start and finish points. the individual nature of the journeys were on also means we have different crosses to bare. if your going to compare another persons good, to your fully fleshed reality, you will always come up short. so, its best not to compare— but if you are going to do it, be sure to compare both the good and the bad. and(!!) be sure to remember that the same way the grass is greener for you elsewhere, is the same way your grass looks greener to someone else. if your now is not enough for you, more will only ever be more, not better. appreciate what you have today. make it part of your new beginning. (what you dont use, you lose). second, prioritise the things you want in order of priority, not preference. having one goal at a time helps reduce burn out and increases focus, which reduces the time span spent working on the goal. if you want to work on your finances and your career security, make it your sole focus for the next year. that means forget about cars, kids, marriage, and anything outside of your prioritised goal, for now. those other things will find you, but they need to take their proper order of priority, which means unless they seek you out and add to your outlined goal, your in no position to acquire them right now. — side note* realise, that your current independence is a freedom, not a burden. the same you that exists today, with kids and a car and a marriage, would have way more responsibility (so x10 the pressure to make things work with about 90% less of the time & flexibility to do so). use that current freedom to your advantage. an informed and intentional purchase, or marriage, or family, is so much better than one acquired as a goal post. don't be the person who wants something just to have it, be the kind of person who goes after things they can maintain. it will make the switch from independence to interdependence less prone to codependence <3

(now.. lol, for the question you actually asked), my first steps to get out of a funk are to clean the house top down, wash bedsheets, clothes & remake the bed. i order or reorder my space to order my mind. then i light candles or incense to set ambiance and to set intention. i shower. make tea and eat (also intentionally). maybe do my hair or something to my appearance that makes me feel more polished since i usually work in a bonnet and house clothes. then i journal or write, and let how im feeling out till i get to the root of why im feeling it (the outlet may be different for you, but whatever it is, the outlet should allow for you to be present with your thoughts and emotions, reflect on them, and process them). usually, doing house work clears some of the mental chatter so im ready to write/purge it out once im done. if i need more, or am just not ready to go back to work, i work out (skip/yoga, something to root me in my body), or i take a walk in nature. if i need something more cerebral than active, i look over my past work to get perspective. (usually our hard work is paying off, but as our skill level increases so do our expectations for what we should be producing. sometimes you just need a reminder of how far you've come in order to see the value of continuing forward). * also dont forget to put away the washing once it dries to get the full *house is clean* effect.

reading this back, i forgot to tell you — you have not been left behind by life. its not too late to share in all the things you might feel are rushing by you. open your heart to what your journey looks like, and not societies clock. you don't need me or my advice. you have all the answers within you, (and the capability to bring them to fruition!) focus on what will make you truly satisfied in this moment. perhaps you already have it. but regardless of if you do or don't, you should be proud of having brought yourself this far!! keep working hard, keep pushing yourself, but push with love & the knowledge that your capable and want to see your capabilities, not as your own bully, or a critic who thinks more is never enough. trust that your effort will not betray you, and that it will lead you to life experiences that make great stories. hindsight is for laughter, not regret. *big hug*

[lil-melody-moon]

Hello dear, hope you’re doing okay❤️ I just wanted to know your opinion on the new Beatles song. I can’t stop listening to the song and I wonder how do you feel about it. Love ya 🫶🏻

Hello, hun! <3 Oh God, I didn't expect to get an ask about this song, oh Gosh, wait, I need to listen to it once more - best time of the month for me, let me gather my brain.

*4 minutes later*

Alright so how do I even start with this? It's as melancholic as it could get, I love the melody of it. Piano, drums they are good, especially the drums. Ringo did his best job again, love him for that - the guy is irreplaceable <3 Violins are making the work there too, Gosh I love this instrument so much! But the part that draws my attention the most is the bridge. The guitar even sounds sad, but I'll get to that one moment in a few, because now's the time for vocals and lyrics.

I have one problem with the vocals and it's not John. I actually like how he sounds there - I think I heard his voice breaking a few times? I'm not quite sure about that - it's soft, somehow longing, but the thing is I don't like Paul's harmony in it. As much as I like him and adore him for his music, it just doesn't fit for me in the chorus. Maybe it's his old voice that throws me off the melancholy each time I hear him, but like. The song could be good with John's voice only, maybe even better, but it was Paul's and Ringo's choice to do the song how it is now and I'm fine with that. That's only a detail that I can get used to after listening to it a few times.

Generally what image I get through this song is this: two people on each side of a barrier of some sort. Both can see one another, but they can't get any closer. One of them is alive - that's a woman for me, second is dead - that's a man for me, watching over the alive one. It's just that this one moment let them see each other for the first time this close and this visible. The woman thanks the man for care, for support, for being almost always there in various forms - let it be music, videos, photos etc - for helping her in another hard time in her life and so on and so on.

And now to the lyrics, oh God almighty.

It's one of the songs that got my attention to the lyrics almost right away, that's why I couldn't exactly say that if I like it or not after first listen - I always have it like that if this happens - but they got my attention for a reason. This song, at least for me, is about longing for the other person. Loneliness, tears and crying, this is what I get from lyrics and melody all together. I will not go through each verse because that would take forever, but like I have no other choice but to somehow go through it as a whole and get a little personal here.

With the chorus, and with the line "I miss you" the woman breaks in tears, because even if they didn't know each other she has always felt that a part of her is missing and couldn't be so easily found and yet when she does find it, it turns out that it's out of her reach. Though this moment, which should last for no longer than a few seconds is longer. The barrier disappears with the bridge, the man steps closer to the woman, embracing her, promising her that they'll get together. He can't exactly tell if in real world or in afterlife, but he can keep the promise that it'll happen. The song ends and the moment ends as well, leaving the longing feeling even stronger.

This is how the entire song feels to me and even the timing of it is like a strange coincidence because I'm going through a difficult time. It's nothing too major, but university became hard, this semester is hellish, almost nothing interests me, but I want to finish this degree so I have to go through it and yet, there's this one person who makes all of this better. His music makes it better, generally he makes it better for me - even if he's dead for so long, bringing so much joy that I can't even measure it, let alone word it and you can call me crazy, but I think I fell in love with him. In fact I spoke about soul connections with a dear friend of mine and we both came to conclusion that maybe, just maybe this is what takes place, all of the above, the story that this song caused to appear in my mind.

Could be true, could be not, could be even my chaotic, period emotions going insane over him, but in conclusion, to not make this answer even longer, that song makes me feel melancholic, it hits right where it should, I like it, besides that one detail but I can get used to that.

Thank you for asking, love you too! <3

[tcookies777]

Life update - returning to college and how it feels as an older student

First off, for any new TAOL readers here, welcome! Thank you for your comments and for investing so much of your time in binging The Anatomy of Love. I just want to apologize again, to both older and newer readers, for my agonizingly slow comment moderation and my lack in replies. I'm not ignoring your comment out of maliciousness or anything like that - I just lack the time and mental energy but that is not to say I don't appreciate your support!

As many of you who've read my previous post and/or chapter ANs are aware of, I've returned to university to finish my 2nd degree. English/literature had always been a great passion of mine but not the most practical career path for me, so I had to quit it in my youth.

Years later, I'm finally pursuing my dream through the best english program my country has to offer and it is everything I could dream of. The academic quality is superb and every day I am working and studying myself to the bone, reading nearly a dozen books a week and typing papers until the words start swimming on the screen.

Among these joys lie the challenges as well. One being that I lean toward the older side of the demographics, which puts me in a minority as opposed to the many young and fresh-faced college students. I've made many friends and met many classmates who assume I am as young as them but their jaws drop when they realize my real age. There is certainly a discrepancy between us in terms of life experience and more, but it is also refreshing and often enlightening to hear perspectives and ideas from the young, creative minds of these trailblazers.

Being in different generations definitely feels weird at times, but what's truly strange - and even a little heartbreaking - is seeing all these young students strive so far and work so hard to the point that the competitiveness created becomes toxic and detrimental to their health.

I have a classmate who is taking 20 units worth of classes (when 12 is the average given how intense the workload is), has 3 part-time jobs, and commits 20 hours of volunteering a week. During an exam day, a window fell on him and broke his arm. Instead of going to the hospital, he insisted on taking his exam with a broken arm because he could not make time to accommodate for his wellbeing.

I met a freshman girl who suffered a mental breakdown when she got rejected from all the school clubs after dozens and dozens of interviews.

The reason behind all the intense competition is because many of these students are fresh out of high school where they've spent the past 4+ years committing to 10 extracurriculars and 20 Advance Placement classes and 1000 volunteer hours so that they can graduate at the top 1% of the class to (hopefully) attend such top universities. But it gets to the point where we're taught that instead of learning for the sake of learning, we're learning for the sake of getting that piece of paper aka the diploma.

And there are many professors who can recognize the difference between the former and the latter in a student of theirs. And there are many professors who will refuse to give even their A+ students a Letter of Rec because they feel that student is not genuinely passionate enough for whatever grad school or internship.

When I was 18 and crying over the stress of nursing school and feeling I was too dumb compared to everyone else, I wish I had someone to tell me to take a deep breath and RELAX.

So now I want to say it for any new or incoming college students that might be reading this: Relax.

Your career will not be over if you do not get into that club. Your social life is not dead just because nobody invited you to a frat party. You are not a loser if you don't have 10+ best friends. You getting a B or C on a paper does not mean your final grade can no longer be an A.

Yes, go to your professor's office hours but talk to them about things besides the coursework - let them get to know you as a person rather than as just a student. That's how they will really remember you among all the other students, and that's how they'll be able to write about you in their letter.

No, you're not dumber than everyone else. That's your imposter syndrome talking. I promise you that whatever idea, question, or concern you have about the course material, there is 100% another student in your class who shares the exact same thing. If you're struggling, 100% there are other students in your class who are struggling as much as you. Don't compare yourself to your peers because we're all battling our own problems and insecurities but we're just hiding it. Focus on yourself.

Be nice to everyone you meet no matter what because you never know what networking opportunities will arise in the near or far future out of that one interaction. Within 1 month of school, I was already offered an internship at a prestigious publishing house just because I let a girl in class borrow my book and we ended up becoming close friends. That network chain was conceived all because I was just nice enough to share my book with her in class.

Most importantly, be nice to yourself! You are smarter than you think you are. And just because you didn't achieve your goal, that doesn't necessarily mean it's your fault or you're a failure. Sometimes to get to your destination you need to take a different path compared to the path you see everyone else taking. And sometimes it's just not meant to be... yet.

Anyway, I'm extremely lucky and privileged to be able to say I am enjoying my 2nd round of university (especially after much pain and suffering in the first round). Which is a major reason why my updates for TAOL have been erratic and my comment moderation slow, but I will continue to do my best in updating whenever I can!

(And if there's even the slimmest chance one of you readers here might be attending the same uni as me, let's vote Chris Pine as our speaker! We must get the arts some representation and love)

Thank you for reading and I will see you soon in the next update 👀

[meadowsystem]

💙 my heart is heavy with this one 💙

I have consistent nervous breakdowns over knowing this is my life. But yet I know many have no idea about the things I'm about to tell you.

Cyclic vomiting syndrome itself is not truely life-threatening but the complications that it creates can be.

I'M BEGGING FOR HELP!!

They do not provide enough accessible treatment. For complications I face from this rare disease.

I am unable to keep a job as I cannot work during vomiting episodes. Lasting anywhere between hours to days. Not including the recovery time needed after the episode is finished.

IT IS DEBILITATING.

Workplaces refuse to hire me when accomodations are asked due to this disability making me "unreliable". If you don't tell your employer and you miss too much work, your let go for being "unreliable". Finding a workplace who will accommodate you and provide consistent wages ... is unobtainable.

Accessing proper insurance coverage needed to make this rare disease manageable is unobtainable due to the plethora of needs we require to have met. Even when on welfare or disability.

Those who are not able to manage the triggers are pushed out of the workforce and forced to fight to get disability. Often unable to obtain federal disability as it isn't "as bad as cancer" as I was told... even with my other plethora of diagnoses that made my doctor feel it was my best course of action.

Not only dose this rare disease have complications of dehydration, damage to the esophagus and tooth decay. Most with this disease also suffer from other conditions (comorbidities), particularly other functional issues. Some of the common functional comorbidities to CVS include migraine headache, chronic fatigue, irritable bowel, gastroparesis, depression, anxiety, POTS and/or other forms of dysautonomia as well as neuromuscular disease include intellectual disabilities, autism, seizures, and/or hypotonia. As well as mitochondria dysfunctions

Incase you don't know mitochondria dysfunctions means your body cannot efficiently turn sugar and oxygen into energy, so the cells do not work correctly. This can affect different parts of the body: the brain, kidneys, muscles, heart, eyes, ears, and others. Organ dysfunction can be a very real possibility. Organ failure is organ dysfunction to such a degree that normal homeostasis cannot be maintained without external clinical intervention.

I have been diagnosed with 8 and counting of the comorbidities. These comorbidities have their own comorbidities that have also been added to my list.

Many doctors are under educated on CVS. Often those with CVS are not properly diagnosed, even with symptoms at a young age.

Many doctors tell us to figure out our CVS triggers to manage the disease. In my case I have so many triggers due to my plethora of diagnoses/comorbidities that my CVS is incredibly difficult, even unrealistic to manage even with proper medical support. (So many overlapping, environmental, situational, medical, life triggers... so many triggers not on this list and still more unknown triggers)

THIS IS MY LIFE! THERE IS NO CURE.

They're are only underfunded small individual research/studies. They have not found a cure. We don't have proper support and thus we suffer. Look at this link ... the lack of information

https://rarediseases.info.nih.gov/diseases/6230/cyclic-vomiting-syndrome

I SUFFER.

My disadvantages have been continually coming to light. My realization I likely won't be able to achieve basic life milestones has been heartbreaking.

Medically assisted suicide is easily achievable even in even minor cases of CVS. While there is little to no support and even less accessibility.

What options do those with this disease have?

Suffer or give up ...

I'd also like to finally note the journey to diagnosis is horrendous. Doctors diagnose cyclic vomiting syndrome based on family and medical history, a physical exam, pattern of symptoms, and medical tests. Your doctor should perform medical tests to rule out other diseases and conditions that may cause nausea and vomiting.

-add on the factors of age, ethnicity, gender, life style, fashion choices, preconceived assumptions ... the list goes on ... the journey to diagnosis often feels unbearable-

If you have read this please comment, I need some validation.

💙

[feralninjaprincess]

Friday before Christmas

I don’t have to work til 1:30 (we all get a half day today) so I’m going to process some things here.

When I moved out here it was finish school. I thought nursing school then I got this job. The owner seemed super amazing (and he is) and he dangled nursing money in front of me to stay. So I did. I dipped out of school. And honestly I don’t really want to be a nurse. But he hasn’t come through on the money part.

Finishing school is important to me for whatever reason. So I applied to the University of Florida because they offered a health education bachelors degree that fits in with what I’m doing already. I got in. The website said tuition was one thing. When I got my bill for spring semester, it’s five times higher than what they said. So there’s no way I can go.

Soooooo back to the drawing board. I was looking up Texas schools to see if anyone offered an online degree completion in the same vein. Texas State has a program that is health information management. So I started researching what the heck is that. Apparently, it’s like coding manager. It’s in the ballpark of what I do now, billing claims and stuff but with the certification and degree, you can make six figures.

So here I am, 48 fucking years old, trying to make a life change AGAIN because I need to be financially secure. I’ve been poor my whole life. I’ve depended on other people because in the family I grew up in, that’s just what you did. We lived with my grandparents until they died. Then it was mom and me. Now I live with the Chases (and don’t get me wrong it’s mutually beneficial, I pay rent and help them with stuff) but the prospect of being able to be on my own for real and not have to worry about money is pretty amazing.

I haven’t told anyone that I’m not going to UF yet. I’m pretty sure I’m getting UF stuff for Christmas. Look, it’s a fairly selective school to get into. I’m proud of the fact that I did. I’m proud that I was almost a Gator so I’m not even mad. I know that’s a dumb reason not to talk about it. Also I’m kinda scared of jinxing the whole thing. I’m taking two classes at TJC in the spring because I need to prerequisites to get in the program at Texas State.

Part of me is scared this won’t work out either. But I have to break this cycle in my life and get what I came here for. It’s scary and hard but for once I need to think about myself and what’s best for me in the long run.

[realityandrebirth]

Today, as my writing exercise, I took Morro's basic character premise ("summoned ghost who wants power") and re-interpreted it as the start to three different stories. Here they are!

One

The spectral takes the form of a boy in ragged clothes, and when I look at his face it clicks that I know this boy–at least, I've seen him in old family pictures dressed much nicer than he is now. He was the high school student my grandparents hosted for a time, and they recalled him as the quiet teen who would talk your ear off about old ruins and tombs. Months before graduation, police found him dead outside the church, seemingly in the process of digging up someone else's grave. My grandmother always said he was a kind, gentle boy, which I take to mean he never held a knife to her throat the way he's holding one to mine.

Two

Clarissa double-checked her spellbook. "You're not a demon," she informed the ghost standing in the magic circle. "You're supposed to be."

"Am I supposed to be bound to you, too?" the boy said in a bored tone of voice.

"I didn't mess that part up," she said. "Tell me your real name."

"Kazuhiko," he said at once. Then, "Wait, no, I didn't–ugh, just Kazu is fine."

Clarissa sighed and clapped the spellbook shut. Might as well make the best of it. "Stay incorporeal," she said. "You may not touch or interact with anything in the living world without my permission. You are permitted only to speak to me. Nod if you understand."

Kazu nodded with a grimace. "So I am to be your servant," he said. "Great, fantastic. Definitely wanted to spend my afterlife like this."

"Oh, hush." Clarissa wiped the chalk off the floor, dismissing the circle. "You're only here until I can actually summon a *real* demon, and then I'll put you back."

"I don't mind being summoned," Kazu snapped. "It's being subject to your every whim I despise. If you're going to demand so much of me, how about you promise me a favor?"

Three

His parents requested he have a spirit summoned to guide him through university, which Tavish wasn't keen on, but hey, the ghost seemed amicable enough, and it wasn't like he could make any other friends. "So," he said out loud, while the ball of light led him down the hall, "how did you get this job?"

"It's part of a program," the ghost said in an echo-y voice. "Students who died before completing their studies can get their degrees by helping a living student."

"Huh." Tavish frowned. "Shouldn't you just get the degree anyway? It feels unfair to make you work for it after you died."

"So?" the ghost paused at the stairwell doors. "Wasn't the school's fault I died. I'm lucky they even felt sorry enough for this."

Tavish opened the door and started climbing. "Death's kind of a big thing, is it?" he said. "Even if it wasn't their fault… I dunno. Even if the dead come back, we have funerals for a reason."

"Tell that to them." The ghost huffed. "Come on, it's just a little further."

The door at the top of the stairwell was locked. "Huh," said Tavish. "Are you sure this is the way to class?"

"Never mind that."

The temperature dropped. Tavish stepped back in alarm, but cold, transparent hands grabbed his shoulders.

"You're going to open that door," the ghost whispered in his ear, "and I'm going to finish what I started."