Miriam, often referred to on this blog as Sketch because years ago I decided that was a good idea and hey, why not. Non-binary queer Jew (they/them), writer, artist, musician. Theme created/edited by me. All art in icon or header/banner is mine. Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCjg5v5Q9vfXNREiufZPHW5Q?view_as=subscriber | Soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/user-22979615
[ID: photo of a white and grey kitten standing up with the text (in all caps) It's 22/2/22. I Love When Numbers Do That and then, smaller, but I wish time didn't pass this fast]
Listened to Band Sinister by K J Charles as an audiobook and while it is a very good book I did learn an important lesson which is: there are many words for penis, and all of them are bad.
I don’t know if this has been pointed out before but I’m losing my damn mind over the parallels between Heavy saying he has yet to see a man outsmart a bullet and Medic doing basically Exactly That at the end of The Naked and the Dead like… bruh just gimme a minute oh my god. oh my god
i. there's three stages of wound healing (sometimes considered four, depending on the document). the last is largely invisible; called remodeling.
ii. they tore down my high school.
iii. the final wound healing stage happens below the dermis, after the scab has flaked off. it is a slow process involving repairing muscle and tissue - and often replaces lost viscera with scar tissue.
iv. i can't remember the order of it, but i know it went something like - pink blue purple white. since you braided it for me, i wore the bracelet for two years, long after it had started to disintegrate.
v. remodeling can last up to a year.
vi. i'm getting surgery soon. medically included hole. i can't wear metal during the process, so i have to take off all my jewelry. i told you once, right - i've been wearing this ring every day since i was 22. i'm worried about my cartilage piercing - i've never had to take it out before, i don't know how to put it back in.
vii. it is possible for skin cells to begin to lose their ability to duplicate, thereby losing their ability to heal. this might happen, for example, when a wound has not completed the remodeling stage but a second wound interrupts the healing process. repeated trauma causes a breakdown on the cellular level.
viii. can a body be a church? there is a vaulted difference between life's call before and the echo, resounding - after, after, after. the ringing click of heels on a stone floor. without looking, i know the steps are always leaving.
ix. scar tissue has no blood. it cannot coagulate. injury to scar tissue does not follow the same wound healing cycle as normal tissue.
x. it's okay. the high school had asbestos. the bracelet was something you made in five minutes. my abdomen will be professionally stitched back together. the worship i wasted will leak somewhere else, onto a different sun, a different life. a different poem.
-- "How do you heal?" ... well stefan frankly i don't // r.i.d
“Have you ever fallen in love in a dream?” she asks. I look up from my drink, but I don’t look at her eyes. My fingers are soundless as I drum them on the table. Rather than answer, I ask her a question of my own.
“Have you?”
She taps her chin, thinking.
“Yes,” she says. I wait for her to elaborate, but she doesn’t, electing instead to pick up her coffee and take a long, pointed sip.
I take the hint. Me first, apparently.
“I once adopted a dog in a dream,” I tell her. I laugh, high and uncertain, because I expect her to do the same. She doesn’t. I can’t read her face at all, so I continue. “I... must have been six or seven--I know it was before my parents got us one for real. The one in the dream was a dachshund, I think, though details like that are always fuzzy in dreams.”
I laugh again, scratching at the back of my neck to clear away the embarrassment, but once again, she doesn’t laugh at me. She sets down her drink, delicate enough that there’s not a single ripple.
“Did you love it?” she asks, with far more care than anyone else would think an imaginary dog from a decade and a half ago deserves.
“I mourned him,” I say, “He didn’t have a name. Those things are never important in dreams, you know? He didn’t have a name, but when I woke up and realized I’d never see him again, I was devastated. Enough to still remember him, even now.”
She nods, apparently satisfied.
“When you fall in love in a dream,” she says, “Do you think that love is real?”
“I don’t know,” I say, “Logically, the answer is no, isn’t it? I literally made that dog up. How could I have loved him?”
“I’m sensing a ‘but.’”
“I still remember the dog I dreamt about in first grade was a nice, tawny brown,” I say, “The two least logical things in the world are feelings and dreams.”
When she grins, everything else in the world disappears. The table between us, the drink in my hand--even her eyes seem to vanish, washed out by one blinding smile. It fades back to normal entirely too quickly, but her resting face tugs a bit upward now.
“I’ve loved in a lot of dreams. More than I can count,” she says. “Pets, friends, siblings, partners. I feel like I spend every night falling hopelessly in love with a nameless stranger.”
“That sounds... miserable,” I mutter. This does make her laugh.
“Miserable? Why?” she asks.
“Falling in love every night, only to have your heart broken every morning? I don’t think I could do it,” I say, “I mean, I still miss that dog. I couldn’t imagine how you feel.”
“You’re thinking about it all wrong.”
“How so?” I ask. She looks past me, taking a moment to think.
“I’ll admit, it never gets easier, waking up and realizing,” she says, “But it’s not terrible, for love to be temporary, but to live without love is much worse. It hurts to lose them, but doesn’t the fact that we felt joy together in the first place mean something? Aren’t we lucky to have met at all?”
I say nothing for a moment. She fidgets, tacks on a “Maybe that doesn’t make sense.”
“These things never do,” I assure her, waving my hand to clear the air. She smiles again. I return it, adding, “That’s a lovely way to go through life, you know.”
“Thank you,” she laughs, but her gaze slides away from me. Quietly, she admits, “I think I have to go soon.”
“Oh. Which way are you headed? We could walk together,” I offer. She hums, not really acknowledging the question. She pauses, as if considering something, before she looks at me again.
“Where are we right now?”
“What? The cafe.” I gesture at the building beside us, whose outdoor table we’re sitting around. She doesn’t even look at it.
“What’s it called?” She asks, I open my mouth, but she doesn’t give me the chance to answer. “What street are we on? How did we get here?”
I’m certain I know the answers, but attempting to give any of them causes the words to stall on my tongue. I look at the building next to us, but there’s no sign anywhere. Just a striped awning and a few windows I can’t see inside. For the first time I realize I don’t see a door.
I sit up straighter, looking at the street around us. Every other building is featureless, and the street is empty. I don’t see a single other person on the street with us, and when I look back at the woman across from me, she’s looking right at me. She stretches her hand across the table, taking mine, and she smiles.
“It was lovely meeting you,” she says, “I hope I see you again.”
I literally cannot stop thinking about this story. I was in the class that had to critique it and could not think of a damn thing wrong to say about it. This is brilliant.
Looking for a friend who shares your curiosity about the world around you? From programming computers down to a simple slinky this little guy wants to explore it all! This tiny fluffy pal is waiting to share your life and your adventures; Just don’t let this dragon in the lab unsupervised, last time we were cleaning slime off the walls for weeks.
Adopt one now with the link below!
You searched for: FlightsofFancyCrafts! Discover the unique items that FlightsofFancyCrafts creates. At Etsy, we pride ourselves on our glob
So we all (on Tumblr at least) know that you shouldn’t age up a child character for the sake of putting then into adult situations, or to make it okay for them to be seen as attractive, etc etc etc. I got that. Totally makes sense.
But, uh. What if I grew up with the character? What if I wanna age up the child character because I’VE aged up since I started enjoying them? I don’t wanna give up these characters I like, but I also don’t derive the same satisfaction anymore interacting with them like I did when I was a kid.
Please help.
Sincerely, Word Girl was my gateway fandom and my brain has been slowly turning into mush ever since
I feel like people are forgetting how great this show is so I want to remind you all that:
Mystique was literally every new character and every other villain
I’m not kidding. New student? Mystique.The principle? Mystique. That Scottish punk rocker? Mystique.
That bird? Also Mystique. If someone is not a main character then they are Mystique.
Sometimes if someone is a main character they are still Mystique, like the episode where it turns out that Professor X was Mystique for the whole season
Magneto menacingly twirls paperclips in the air in like half the scenes
Magneto refuses to stand and instead floats at all times, even if it’s just an inch above the ground
Magneto is only shown as a helmet hiding in the shadows for the entire first season
Storm is boss as hell and was worshiped as a goddess when she was younger
There was an episode where all of the girls lowkey started a gang and tore shit up and kicked the asses of villains more effectively than the entire X-team did for the whole series???
Wolverine and Sabretooth fought every time they saw each other. In the mall? On top of a parking garage? While on motorcyles? Fight WITH THE MOTORCYCLES? Like they could literally smell one another miles away and they would run through the whole city just to fight one another, it’s ridiculous
The Brotherhood of Evil Mutants crashed a high school soccer game once
Everyone in the Brotherhood is a sassy asshole and I love it, esp Quicksilver
Professor X is completely unfit to supervise children but people keep giving him their children to supervise
Including his own son, whom he, predictably, also failed to supervise
There was an episode where hunters caught Beast because they thought he was Bigfoot
Right before Jean was going to confess her ~feelings~ to Scott Mystique fucking kidnaps him and throws him to wolves in the desert lol. Professor X also refused to believe another fucking telepath when she said Scott was in danger
One of the characters joins a cabal of sewer mutants after he is disfigured by drinking soda that functions as mutant poison
Magneto had some secret headquarters at a ski resort
Blob knows how to make radish roses
The show is surprisingly positive and has great female characters and also some really good commentary about marginalized groups???
It’s also really true to the comics and does a lot of great side characters justice
Wolverine is like two feet tall in the show, just like in the comics, he’s a great angry munchkin tbh
was anyone going to tell me that king arthur flour is an 100% employee-owned benefit corporation or were you just going to let me keep using their recipes without buying their flour
This post gave me a heart attack and made me google like crazy. Bob’s NOT dead! He still works there in his 90s. He’s a local celeb, and I’ve met him a handful of times at the restaurant where he eats almost every day, wearing that red vest and cap, giving out coupons to kids. It’s 100% employee owned but he didn’t like, leave it to them in his will. He’s always cared about his employees and he set up a Employee Store Ownership Plan in 2010. His story of how and why he founded the company is awesome. NPR did a podcast on him a couple years ago that’s worth a listen! https://www.npr.org/2018/05/17/612108005/bobs-red-mill-bob-moore
In the 1960s, Bob Moore read a book about an old grain mill and was inspired to start his own. Using giant quartz stones from the 19th centu
I was worried there for a minute. I just saw Bob a few months ago.
King Arthur (which just rebranded and is not King Arthur Baking Company) is an amazing company that is not only employee owned and a great source for baking help, but very committed to supporting charities like the ACLU.
The responsible company baking trifecta:
Bob's Red Mill
King Arthur Baking
Penzey's Spices
All three companies have responsible politics and an employee-centric business model.
Make delicious things and support good companies!
Looking for a friend who shares your curiosity about the world around you? From programming computers down to a simple slinky this little guy wants to explore it all! This tiny fluffy pal is waiting to share your life and your adventures; Just don’t let this dragon in the lab unsupervised, last time we were cleaning slime off the walls for weeks.
Adopt one now with the link below!
You searched for: FlightsofFancyCrafts! Discover the unique items that FlightsofFancyCrafts creates. At Etsy, we pride ourselves on our glob
Fun fact I reblog all frog posts I come across (or am tagged in, thank you!!) to @frogs-all-the-way-down which is constantly 2 seconds away from becoming a Gretel’s Hobbies Headcanons blog
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