i don't know how, or why???? but??? black pens,,, keep appearing in my pockets/bags??? i don't even use black pens usually???? like. at the beginning of march i had one black pen and one blue gel pen. i had exams, so on the day of like my third exam, i look in my bag and there's 2 black pens. weird, but i shrug it off. next day, next week of exams, i have three, four, they keep multiplying.
at the end of march i have. SIX???BLACK PENS????? IDK WHERE THEY COME FROM??? and then it was vacation, i forgot all about it. second day back in class today, I've changed the bag i use. i have a blue gel pen in my pocket again. i zone out and take out the pen without much thought and put it inside my notebook, right. twenty seconds pass, i think oh i will need to write this down so i pick it back up from inside the notebook, and.??? there's A BLACK PEN??IN THERE??? and i freak, and check my pocket, the blue pen is still in there. i have not moved an inch and nobody was near me the whole time??????????????? WHAT THE FUCK I'M GENUINELY FREAKING OUT OVER THIS WHAT OS THOS AN I GOINGN INSANE
Some kind of crazy thing happened on Instagram this weekend- one reel got over a million views out of nowhere (slightly higher than my usual 800 view average)
I’m not a big social media person, but this has had a big knock on effect on my Etsy + Threadless shops and has kind of miraculously got me enough sales that I won’t be raiding all the savings to take my upcoming paternity leave. That said, I still get most of my support from repeat buyers and people who say nice things about my work on Tumblr, which is very cool.
Feeling surprised and pleased as I go into my 3rd evening in a row of packing orders all night!
So, my co-worker found a small baggy of odd items in front of our office door. Why did she bring it in? I have no idea. The bag contained this devil card, lotto tickets with strange markings/symbols, and prank toys. Like a sling shot, one ballon and other things.
I felt cautious even before she opened the bag. When she opened it, the devil card came out first. I told her, "Wash your hands," and then I told her I just felt weird about these items, i ever put everything away while holding a napkin. I texted my sister, who said "who ever opened it should throw it away," which my co-worker did.
Does anyone have an idea why this bag was left like for someone to find it? Is it a jinx? Or maybe it was just left by mistake...
The best thing about Lucas-well no. There are too many of those to really...okay, one thing Lucas is really, really good at is not looking at Will like he's weird.
Nineteen-year-old Will understands that he is fundamentally different from a large percentage of the Hawkin's populace, partly because certain people have never been shy about sharing that information with him (a moment of silence for all the lunch-stealing, switchblade-wielding, future America's Most Wanted subjects who dedicate all eighteen of their school years to putting him on the endangered species list) but mostly because it's something he's always felt.
Prior to spending a week in a dark, terrifying, nether-verse, Will draws frightfully realistic pictures of goblins, spends hours practicing slight-of-hand magic, and makes dozens of tape recordings pretending to be everything from a young werewolf adjusting to his transformations to an astronaut stranded on a distant planet. (Every third Thursday of the month, Joyce Byers receives a tape in a thick white envelope along with a letter from NASA explaining that although they've recruited the best intergalactic explorers in nine galaxies, they can't seem to find her son.) Post spending a week in a dark, terrifying, nether-verse Will is silent for days on end, experiences horrifying visions that haunt his waking hours, and stands in the shadow of his nightmare as it blots out the sun.
Dr. Nelson says that consistency is important. Doing the same things everyday, committing to a routine gives him something easy to focus on.
There are things that don't change.
One of them is the way Lucas makes Will feel like he's not-like he's just...Will. It's not like Lucas doesn't think Will is weird, because he does. He voices his opinion on the subject often and with the certainty of having uttered scientific fact. There's no malice in it. It's the same eye-roll worthy, put-upon way he teases El and Will is eighteen years old before he recognizes the soft pitch and subdued smile for what they really are: the most elemental kind of fondness.
Lucas thinks Will's affection for broccoli should be classified as a medical condition, He insists Will's instinct to defend Return of the Jedi from rational criticism is emotional transference from Empire, in a way that suggests participating in this conversation is the most offensive thing he's ever done. (This argument is memorable for many reasons, the least of which is Dustin taking the initiative and hurling Lucas' psych book out of Mike's bedroom window.)
Ten-year-old Lucas gives ten-year-old Will aggressively good-natured hair ruffles and asks all kinds of critical questions about his fascination with recess cloud-watching when the jungle gym is right there man and refers to him as Will the Wise in a booming voice that attracts the attention of the entire playground. This continues for four straight days until Will rejoins with Rambo the Loyal.
I. Bros being bros and podcasting about nerd shit.
II. The podcast has approximately four listeners, the most dedicated among them being Mike's mom. (Mike has repeatedly told his mother not to listen because it "makes him nervous.") This number fluctuates depending on the time of day, the weather, and the amount of disparaging remarks Dustin makes about the DC cinematic universe.
III. There is much discussion of comic books, superheroes, table top games, film adaptations, sci-fi and fantasy authors, ethics in journalism, cosplay, the Nintendo switch, what the hell is taking George R. R. Martin so long does he understand his readership will probably be dead before he publishes another book? and other topics salient to college-age nerds under the impression their dedication to their hobbies could someday pay their bills.
IV. Following in the illustrious footsteps of Matt Bessar, they live-stream their Saturday night D&D games. (Dustin: Hey guys, just wanted to give you a quick update. Mike's basement is still disgusting.") The results range from palatable mediocrity to hitherto unseen levels of chaos. The comments page would be a mess...you know, if people left comments.
V. Their first guest is an amazing, unbelievable get. El Ives has written four volumes of the Wizards of Gale series- a staggering, gorgeous epic chronicling the coming of age of a young psychically gifted warrior traversing a galactic wasteland in search of her true purpose-in the last three years. She's gone on national tours, topped sci-fi best-seller lists, and was proposed to roughly thirty-seven times at New York comic-con. Naturally, the dudes freak out, but Mike's is the most memorable melt down. He talks to himself in the mirror in a pre-interview hype session, he drops his note cards, stares for inappropriate lengths of time, and generally makes everyone ridiculously uncomfortable.
VI. After the stress of her tour, the casual atmosphere of the podcast (with the exception of the host who makes tense, terrifying eye contact with her before avoiding her gaze for the rest of the day) is a novelty El is reluctant to relinquish. This explains hanging around Hawkins ("You're welcome to stay at our place." Dustin volunteers before Mike can open his large, endlessly stupid mouth.) despite having deadlines, and interviews and a whole life in Manhattan. They take her to all their lame hang-outs and Mike dies several deaths due to sheer embarrassment (Humiliate Wheeler To Death Tour 2017!)
VII. This is the thing. The thing is this: despite the fact that they've been doing this for like, four months, and no one is even really listening Mike is still absurdly nervous on air? Lucas and Dustin are naturals and Will chimes in when he really wants to make a point (he's often drowned out by the intensity of Dustin\Lucas debates but whenever he manages to incline his chin toward the mic and deliver his statements in the softest, least antagonistic voice ever created, his points are salient and logical and even occasionally border on poignant) but it take s Mike at least fifteen minutes to get comfortable uttering opinions he has no trouble voicing off air. It's disconcerting and weird, and he's envious of the casual way his friends interact on air. They're natural, as if there aren't any disparities between their on air personalities and their real life ones. They're completely comfortable, Mike has to calm down, close his eyes, remember his pre-air inspirational speech, really center himself before he can engage in way that's even close to natural. (Even then, his voice is a touch too high, his sentences come out blunt and semi-intelligible, and his jokes feel more like passive aggressive indictments of other people's moral characters than "ha ha" funnies. These delightful and attractive flaws are only exacerbated by the prolonged presence of one of his literary heroes who, in addition to being funny, clever, sincere, brutally honest, and genuinely down for anything re: appearing on a D&D role-playing channel with four losers, has the audacity to love Ray Bradbury and Farscape as much as he does. It's the fucking rudest.)
VIII. To make matters worse, she loves his friends. Lucas is the most charming mother fucker alive (dude has a certificate!) and Mike hates him for the ease with which he makes El laugh so hard she cries. He then hates himself for hating Lucas, up until the asshole does it again and El looks happier than a ten year old who was just informed she gets to live at Disney Land. Witnessing the vast depths of El's joy is probably the purest experience Mike ever has. Said joy is a product of Lucas recounting any number of stories starring himself as the witty, amazing, bad ass of their high school tenure. So, dilemma. She and Will exchange book recommendations, karaoke Fridays at Lester's is forever altered the moment she and Dustin duet on a gentle, soul-melting rendition of Head Over Heels (they're terrible singers, but the power man, the subtle emotive, power) and Lucas, Lucas is everywhere, buying her drinks, and talking about how there are certain paragraphs in book three he wants to live in, and complimenting her buzz cut, and constantly and at all times making her laugh so long, and hard and with her entire body and it's so fucking unfair Mike can't actually-
IX. In local news, Lucas and Dustin are living in a shoebox across the river from Mike's house. Will is over so often he is repeatedly mistaken for a piece of furniture. He has his own shelf in the fridge (the middle), his own snacks in the cabinet (fig newtons are more than fruit and cake) and coconut shampoo he's neglected to take home and which is become the official property of the estate. Dustin likes to think of his abode as a sovereign nation, wants desperately to draw up a constitution and design a flag. Lucas likes to think of his casa as a Dustin-free zone, and is disappointed upon opening his door and finding reality has very much crushed his hopes and dreams. There is very little sleep, the occupants are lucky to claim several consecutive hours of unconsciousness. Instead, there are twitch marathons, Netflix binges, LOTR re-watches, and intense, lengthy debates over the merits of Zack Snyder being shot into space verses the efficiency of simply setting him ablaze.
X. Will is fond of lying on the couch, or on the window seat or on the floor next to Lucas' mattress and telling him all the ideas that his ridiculous brain ushers forth when he can't sleep. Lucas gently reminds him of the graphic novel he's kind of, sort of, a little bit working on-the thing he starts last year and politely but stubbornly refuses to show him any more pages once Lucas becomes a living, breathing reminder that Will could maybe think about possibly publishing it because It's Good. To be fair, saying the words aloud, letting them take shape in the air is almost like working on it. It's very, very close.
XI. Eventually, Mike realizes that contrary to initial reports, he's actually jealous of two people. Yes Lucas making El laugh is fairly fucking infuriating, but so is the knowledge that Lucas is trying so hard to make someone laugh, and that that someone (for reasons he is painfully, intimately familiar with) is NOT him. Pre-graduation, post-two a.m. silent, sexuality-specific realization that takes place in an Arby's parking lot, Mike and Lucas are the most accurate visual representation for best friendship that has ever, or will ever live. Their bond is unshakable, the stuff of Census Bearu legend, the canniest, most argumentative, absurdly affectionate, gleefully contrary pairing so robust and unrelenting it caused even the most patient members of their tight-knit Indiana State study circle to routinely throw up their hands and avert their eyes, yelling, "That's enough! Put it away!" One sunny, late-fall afternoon, they're picking up the thread of an ongoing Alien vs. Aliens debate (Lucas: I'm so glad your mom's not here to listen to her son humiliate himself like this. It would break her heart.") which has ascended to the intensity level that warrants standing very close and screaming as though they are not standing very close, when quite suddenly, they are no longer arguing. The discovery of another item in a long list of things they are hopelessly good at when they combine their talents, takes up the entire afternoon and most of the evening. The surprised, but strong, and ultimately righteous sense of joy\awe is conflated by the subdued, giddy knowledge that what has been in the past for Mike a rare and somewhat lackluster experience, and for Lucas, a little less rare but equally mediocre 'event' currently feels like the wide expanse of potentiality specific to scientific exploration. So there's that.
XII. It doesn't last too long, when he allows himself to think about it Mike abjectly refuses to liken the duration of the event to anything stupid, like a metaphor about supernovas. That would be dumb. And crass. And in poor taste. Plus, he hardly ever thinks about it ever, so there's that. Anyway, Mike dropping out of Indiana state and returning to the cocoon of his mother's basement is a completely unrelated event that never ever needs to be recounted, not even for posterity, except to say that it's unrelated to anything going on in his life at the moment. And it's okay, because he and Lucas are still ridiculously close friends and it's never even awkward except for the few occasions wherein Mike succumbs to jealously, before becoming confused about exactly whom he's jealous off. After he figures it out, he's moody and distant and the podcast gets Weird in only the way Mike can make it. El is confused, 'cause once the dude stops staring and actually says a few words to her, he's kind of cool in this completely doofy way. Lucas eventually plops on the end of Mike's bed, allows Mike to put his dirty, uncivilized sneakers all over his fairly expensive pants and makes a fumbling preamble that might as well be called Intro to Awk Con. It goes okay. Mike's just tired and Lucas co-signs with a sigh, and a story about his sister, and they talk around it because it's still-they-can't-There's grumbling about the complete absence of something that could even be mistaken for a fan base, and Dustin's rants, and a general consensus on the awesomeness of El and they both feel better after that.
XIII. Lucas might have a supremely underdeveloped thing for Will? It's like, super embryonic, not even worth thinking about much less trying to explain out loud to Will's face while he stands there looking cute and curious and hesitant about the stupid notebook he's been doodling in for like a year, even though what little bits Lucas has seen of the novel that Will's mortified about having written is so good he'd buy it tomorrow if Will would only deign to finish the damn thing. Yeah. So El hangs around Hawkins, after slaving away in his emotional garden wearing a wide-brim hat and too much sunscreen, Mike manages to grow the courage necessary to ask her to dine at his mom's house (yes, his mom has had El over for dinner roughly a thousand times, and yes her laugsana with the signature sauce has become one of El's favorite dishes, but owing to the fact that Mike has spent ninety-five percent of those roughly thousands of evenings in his room melting down and wishing he was a person who could handle this shit, they don't actually count.), Will finishes his summer drawing course at the learning annex, because his phone storage is unable to contend with the sheer volume of photos he takes of and with El in the last couple of weeks\months (?) Dustin gets Instagram and instantly gains a thousand followers, and Lucas comes to the conclusion that's actually amazing at this podcast thing? Like honestly, he's very talented. And he's never taken one communication course!
XIV. El heads back to New York, promising to visit when she can. Mike admirably hides his heartbreak, and gallantly takes his frustration out on a pacman machine during their afternoon at the arcade. (Mike Wheeler: Frustrated Bisexual) A couple months later, they all receive signed copies of the next Wizards of Gale book with special messages scribbled on the inside covers. A couple of weeks before that, they post their El interview, and the site it takes Dustin two, painful, sleepless weeks to build experiences a significant amount of traffic for the first time in its uneventful little life. Everyone freaks out and facetimes El who's mid interview on the Teresa Watkins show, and that's how they attain their first television interview. (El: I'm sorry, this is so unprofessional. Do you mind?)
XV. Bros being bros, podcasting about nerd shit. (Dustin: How were you received by the dudebro cheeto dust contingent? I assume they're treating you well? They're super classy individuals.)
XVI. Oh, and Hopper is El's manager\literary agent? Okay? Okay.
