#flex post

[bookdragonpoet56]

6:13am 20 March 2026 just before the official sunrise on the equinox . 

Where I ended my week with DDP Yoga. Guess I’m at 700% because I did all 7 workouts. I’m also down another half a pound and that’s my flex for the week. Feeling tired but 💪 hope everyone had a great week

[slicksquid]

this has been a very successful tower control rotation

[femnet]

We all have days when it feels like everything is going wrong. It can be hard to get a handle on things and start turning the odds back in your favor. However, it’s not impossible. Here are a few tips on how to be optimistic and productive even on your worst days:

Make A List

When you’ve got a lot of things to do, it can be hard to focus and get them done. Making a list of everything I have to do always helps me gather my thoughts and get on track. It gives you a plan of action and can help ease the stress you’re feeling.

When you do get tasks done, it can also be incredibly relieving and satisfying to cross them off. I love to check things off in my planner because I feel productive. It gives me a way to see that I am able to get these tasks done by taking them on one at a time.

Whether it is electronic or on paper, lists can be both satisfying and great for organization. If you prefer using your laptop, phone, tablet, etc. feel free to make a list in your notes or on a document. If you prefer paper, I suggest using a planner or some kind of notebook. Either way, make sure that you keep your lists on something portable so that you can take it with you wherever you go.

Talk to a Loved One

When you bottle up stress, it will always come to a point where it’s ready to explode. Whether you’re there yet or not, it’s important to put your emotions and struggles out there. Talking to a loved one may help you relieve the pressure of stressful days and get your feelings off your chest. Whether it be a friend, family member, coworker, etc., find someone who is willing to listen and let them know what’s going on.

If you would like, you can ask the person of your choice for advice about how to relieve some of this stress or for encouragement to get you through the day. Sometimes it helps to know that someone is thinking about you and rooting for you.

Take One Day At A Time

One of the best ways that I stay optimistic is by remembering that once this day is over, a new one begins. Things may be tough for you right now, but all you have to take one day at a time, even one minute at a time, and go with it. Time won’t stop for anyone, but we can stay focused and make the time we do have great.

Think of the Future

We all have things that we’re looking forward to. Whether it’s graduating, the concert for your favorite band, or even just lunch, keep the things that you’re looking forward to in mind when times are tough. This will give you the motivation to do whatever you need to do and get through the rest of the day. Tying in with my last point, all you have to do is take one day at a time until these events.

I’d like to leave off with my best advice to those struggling right now: we all go through it. No matter how stressed you are right now just remember that you aren’t alone in that. We all have stressful days, but how we handle it will determine how well and how fast we get through it. Take a deep breath, make your list, and get started!

[femnet]

I love horror films. They’re dynamic. They’re diverse. They’re cathartic. But, more than anything, they have heart. Well, some of them do. While watching any horror flick, I want to be able to answer the questions who are we rooting for, and why should we care? I want heart. With October’s arrival, I find myself coming back to a few of my favorites. For those of you who, like me, are seeking the heart in the midst of horror, find four heart-filled and horror-filled flicks below that have my stamp of approval.

1. It Follows (2014) Dir. David Robert Mitchell

Following a group of young teenagers and gently tackling the topic of sexually transmitted diseases through the lens of horror, It Follows makes you care quickly through the little details. The little game Jay plays with her sister, the long shots of her getting ready for her date, and the persistent lack of adult interception as the group rallies to help Jay escape her pursuant all lend itself to a connection between the characters and the audience. They feel human. Awkward. Stuttering. Giggling into the night. What’s important, too, is that despite their age, they feel isolated from any options beyond dealing with the issue alone. That, in combination with the fact that we’ve already seen a teenage body left behind by this horror, and you’ve got high tension and high heart. We care. We care. We can’t help but care.

This one’s a winner for the group dynamic, the quiet, almost soft horror, and the world which feels simultaneously outdated and futuristic and impossible to place.

2. A Quiet Place (2018) Dir. John Krasinski

It’s obvious immediately that A Quiet Place is about family. Learning to live within a world where you can’t make a sound lends itself to questioning the obligations of parents and their children’s future. How do you bring a child into a world where they cannot make a sound, and should you? These questions are rocketed to the forefront of the narrative as we watch Emily Blunt’s character near her due date amidst the mayhem. With their inventive workarounds to the world, the earphone-tied dance scene, and the preestablished loss of their third child, I was enraptured by their family, persisting as they did. You wonder, how is it practical, bringing children into a soundless world? But, it’s not about practicality. It’s about hope. Sacrifice. Family and love, surviving.

This one is a winner for the family dynamic, for the inventive play with sound, and for the fact that it wastes no time, clocking in at 90 minutes, and giving you the rules immediately and without elaboration.

3. Let the Right One In (2008) Dir. Tomas Alfredson

This Swedish flick reads more fairy tale than horror film at first, as young Oskar deals with bullying and isolation. Then, meets new-neighbor Eli, a twelve-year-old he makes a connection with in the snow-covered playground outside their apartment building. Amongst dreams of revenge against his bullies, we discover Eli’s eternal existence alongside Oskar. Slow-building and eerie, this film feels innocent and magic-threaded as Oskar finds his voice. Hitting all the plot points of both fairy tale and horror film, Let the Right One In, falls somewhere in between.

For those bullied and looking for catharsis or searching for a new take on a vampire flick, Let the Right One In, is the right one for you.

4. Train to Busan (2016) Dir. Yeon Sang-ho

A train-stuck businessman quickly establishes his prioritizing of his career over his family just before the zombie apocalypse takes over his train. As he fights his way out, those around him showing their humanity through both kind acts and heart-wrenching selfishness, Seok-woo flashes back to his daughter’s childhood. As he learns to find his heart again, he and a growing-smaller group have to fight their way to safety from a pack of zombies like no other I’ve ever seen before. The most heart-wrenching part? The regret Seok-woo feels as he realizes all he’s missed, and his desperation to make it out alive to make amends to his daughter. Drenched in emotion, Train to Busan centers on what happens when we forget to put our families first when zombies take over.

Train to Busan wins for unique zombies, a new kind of enclosed setting, and a lovely intertwining of missed memories and longing for a future.

[femnet]

Hot diggity dog am I depressed right now. Frankly, I want to crawl up into a little hole and go to sleep for a thousand years. At this current moment, I can’t seem to feel anything, but I know in a few hours I might be feeling all the emotions ever created all at once. Depression sucks, and some of us have to live with it.

Despite the fact that I low key want to shrivel away into nothingness, I’m still taking positive steps to try and help my mental state. I woke up this morning, brewed myself a cup of tea, put on some happy dance music, and sat outside to get some fresh air and good ol’ vitamin D. This isn’t an immediate cure, but it will help in the long run. At least my aesthetic is on point.

So here is a list some mild suggestions of little ways that might improve your state of mind.

Listen to happy music. I know that right now I want to wallow in Melodrama or go to the Badlands, but at the moment I’m listening to one of our playlists, About A Girl, because it’s about happy love and that’s what I need right now.

Watch a kids movie. I usually pick something I can sing along to like Mulan or Moana. Often times it’s the happiest movie of all: Tangled.

Brush your teeth. It makes you feel clean but doesn’t take as much energy as taking a shower. 

Cry. Hey, I’m gonna do it anyways, sometimes it helps just to let it out.

Go for a walk. Sometimes I take a short walk by myself or with my dog. It gets me out of my sadness zone and gets me in the fresh air. Sometimes this improves my mood immediately, because it helps me get a grip on reality.

Watch a stand up comedy special. Laughter always helps my mood. John Mulaney is a good one, because some of his content is about depression and it’s nice to laugh at the thing that’s hurting you.

Read whatever book that makes you feel at home. For me, reading gets me out of my world and into someone else’s. I usually pick something I’ve already read, because I know it’s happy. Sometimes it’s a humor book, sometimes it’s children’s literature.

These are just some things that help me! Feel free to add things to this list!!!

[femnet]

All my life I’ve never fit in what I like to call the ‘gender box’. Those societal restrictions placed on someone based on whatever genitalia they are were born with. AKA: Gender roles. I was expected growing up as most–if not all–girls to enjoy feminine things. Pink, soft, and quiet activities. And while yes, I liked all those things, I also fiercely loved typical masculine things as well. Super heroes, blue hues, and horror films. I remember reading my father’s Spider-Man comics, and painting blue race cars, and sneaking peeks at scary movies that would give a normal elementary school student nightmares. Which, of course, was the origin point of stop much scrutiny in my life. This was the cause of so much damage to my psyche while I was developing, I barely realized the extent of it myself till a few weeks ago.

I remember bringing a Pirates of the Caribbean towel once to school for a picnic day and getting mercilessly teased for it. ‘That’s a boy thing!’ ‘You can’t have that, it’s not for girls!’ It even went so far as one boy trying to take the beloved article from me because ‘I shouldn’t have it.’ I couldn’t understand why me liking those movies was such a problem. They were so cool. Pirates were so badass. Why did me being female have to make I think differently?

The insults and glares weren’t just from jerks at school. My own family members would put me down for not being ‘ladylike’ and ‘proper.’ I remember one instance with my mother that affected me so badly that it stuck with me to this day. We were getting food at a drive-thru fast food restaurant. You know, one of those places where they offer the toys with the kid’s meal, and the ‘boy toy’ happened to be of Ninja Turtles. Which, to this day, is still one of my favorite shows. So I naturally wanted that option over the female option. However, my mother made such a big deal over it and made sure the person taking the order knew I was girl wanting a boy plaything, I ended up getting rid of the toy because it embarrassed me so badly. I began thinking there was something wrong with me. After that I attempted to stop indulging in traditionally non-feminine things.

Soon, I became miserable. There was so much I wanted to do and other things I was forced to partake in. I wanted to draw Captain America not jewelry. I wanted to talk about horror movies to the boys in class not talk about boys to the girls. I wanted to play Power Rangers not hair salon. But I suffered in silence. It seemed it was easier to do stuff I didn’t enjoy compared to putting up with the bullying.

Until it wasn’t anymore.

There wasn’t one eureka moment, but a slow weathering to the truth. I got fed up with not being me. Finally, I stood up for myself. I began drawing, reading, and watching what I liked. Steadily, I gained the confidence to not let those who teased me bother me. To be shameless about my interests or hobbies. I’m now happier as well as more self-assured than I’ve was ever in my childhood. But that doesn’t undo all the damage done when I was young. I still struggle with my self-esteem and trying to ignore other people. Sometimes I relapse and have to try again to build up my confidence yet again.

Others aren’t even that lucky. They’ve never been able to stand-up for themselves. And perhaps never will. All because of some idiotic and far outdated rule placed long ago to keep women subordinate. Well, it needs to go. I’m just a brick in the massive fortress affected negatively by gender roles. It’s sickening, infuriating. There’s so much that needs to change. And these ‘rules’ are a great place to start.

[femnet]

this morning, I woke up in a pool of my own blood. 

‘you’re becoming a woman’ they said to me, over and over like they were trying to convince me, and themselves. but how could I be a woman when I was only nine, sitting on the toilet anxiously crying while my mom drove to town to get pads because all she had were tampons. just a few weeks short of my tenth birthday, and I was suddenly a woman, skipping over being a teenager entirely apparently. women were people I saw in the grocery store, with makeup on their faces, some of them wearing heels, others wearing colorful workout shoes, most taller and more beautiful than I saw myself. and when I looked in the mirror… that wasn’t what I saw. 

this morning, I woke up in a pool of my own blood. 

at a friend’s house, on the floor, sleeping on a borrowed blanket that I’m seconds away from ruining. it’s the amount of time I spend in the bathroom, and the running water, that alerts someone. suddenly there’s a quiet knock on the door, and I’m crying to my best friend’s mom, all of 12 years old, that I’ve ruined my underwear and my sleeping pants and I was so sorry for potentially ruining the blankets. and the look in this women’s eyes, the comprehension that I was not like her; I was still a child dealing with something that had not been adequately explained to me. I was not a woman but a girl; a girl who’s mother hadn’t taken the time to explain what might happen, and how to handle this situation. and this woman closed the door, rubbed my back, and told me what ‘every girl should know’.

this morning, I woke up in a pool of my own blood. 

I stopped getting light colors sheet’s years ago, the knowledge that blood stains don’t come out easily stuck in my mind as I pick out progressively darker colors. but this morning is more of a puddle, and after five years, I know what to do. it’s sad to see another pair of relatively clean underwear become ‘period panties’, but that’s how life goes. my mom finds me in the bathroom, running cold water over the fabric, unperturbed by the blood on my hands and legs. she looks at what I’m doing, the calm on my face, and offers her condolences on the underwear. she mentions that we’ll go shopping soon and I can get some new ones. she understands my need for discretion, and allows me to finish my business and shower, delaying her departure for work, but letting me have my peace. 

this morning, I woke up in a pool of my own blood. 

college is cruel enough, without an added reminder that you’re life is a complete mess and things just can’t go your way. but I have class at nine, which gives me plenty of time to get clean in the shower, maybe cry for a few minutes so my mom won’t hear and come asking questions. and that very moment, waking up that way, ruins the whole day, putting me in a cranky mood that doesn’t go away through two classes and work. I discover there’s a pimple growing on my face around the time I’m heading home and it barely phases me, that special kind of defeat that washes over someone when their day started with a loss. it just makes sense for the day to end with one. 

this morning, I woke up in a pool of my own blood. 

but I don’t realize it at first. inconsistent sleep is something I’ve been dealing with for years, so I grab my phone to check the time and then I realize what’s going on. awkwardly, I shuffle to my bathroom and nearly begin to cry, the realization that it’s 1 am, I work at 4 am, and I’m absolutely covered in blood. there’s something undignified about the act of cleaning soil off your body, trying not to cry or freak out at the fact that it looks like a murder scene. it doesn’t help that I’ve had a migraine for five days, or that I’ve barely any sleep. but that’s the thing; my body doesn’t know or care about that. the timing of my period is inconsequential, has been since I was nine years old, sitting on the toilet thinking I was dying. if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s that coincidences happen.

this morning, I woke up in a pool of my own blood. 

and even though it’s been 14 years, that same feeling I had when I was nine comes rushing back. because part of me will always be that terrified little girl, waking up in a pool of her own blood.

[femnet]

Sorry, I couldn’t resist. Crude title aside, I really thought I was going to have a minor surgery. There is enough anti-choice propaganda out there that you probably think it’s a surgery too. I thought they were going to stick a thin clothes-hanger-esque wire up there wiggle it around. I’m smart enough, I probably could have done my research, but I didn’t want to psych myself out in case it was worse than what I was imagining. 

I had an abortion in July of 2016. Since then, I’ve noticed how little it’s talked about and I think that does the world an injustice. So here’s the play-by-play of what I went through during my abortion. If you have any further questions or you’re just looking for support, you can always ask me. 

First, the medical assistant took me into a room and told me to lose my bottoms and lay back with my feet in stirrups. Before they left, they said I needed a pelvic exam and that I was getting an internal ultrasound. I had no idea what either of those were but I did as I was told and waited a few minutes for her to come back. She was back quickly and gave me the pelvic exam, which is just gloved hand feeling your uterine walls and involves a few pushes on and around your tummy. You feel like you’re going to pee on them. She told me I had a small uterus and that the ultrasound technician would be in soon.

An internal ultrasound is very similar to the regular ultrasounds you see on TV or movies, except they take the readings from inside of you. They take a large rod, put some very cold jelly on it, and stick it right up in there without really telling you what’s going on. Probably because she expected a smart girl like me to do my research.

She asked a bunch of questions while moving the rod around getting the necessary readings. “Do you want to know if there are multiples?” Does that mean there are multiples? “Do you want to know?” No. “Is anyone making you do this?” Of course not. “Did you know you have a small uterus?” People keep telling me. “You’re about eight weeks along.” Huh.

She got all she needed and left me to redress. She instructed me to sit on a waiting couch outside the doctor’s office. A different medical assistant asked if I had anyone in the waiting room, and that they could go get them if I wanted. They got my boyfriend and he sat with me for about thirty minutes. I think we watched cute animal videos. We got called into the doctor’s office and he gave me a highlighted packet with instructions and a brown paper bag with three color coded pill bottles inside; an anti-nausea medicine, a bottle with nine Vicodin, and the four pills that would force a miscarriage. He told me that it would be painful and that I might need to take a day or two off from work.

He gave me one more pill. This got the process started, but it was often purged. So I’d have to wait in the waiting room for thirty minutes in case I puked. If I did, I’d just take another one and wait again. I didn’t vomit up the first one, so we headed home.

The at-home instructions were simple. First, I was to take a Vicodin, as it was about to get painful. Then I needed to put two dissolving pills on each side of my mouth between my top gums and my cheeks for an hour. I fell asleep for three hours and woke up with a powdery taste in my mouth. I washed it down with cran-grape juice.

Even on Vicodin, it was very painful. The best way to describe it is as the most excruciating period I have ever experienced, and it was heavier than usual. The extreme pain only lasted about twelve hours, but the whole cycle was about four days longer than normal. In less than a week, my life was back to normal.