finished reading an offer from a gentleman and my final conclusion is: Sophie should've fucked him nasty and robbed him blind

bridgerton lends itself to extraordinary self-insert escenarios which very little media can replicate, namely that of me finding a spaniard to have a duel of honour with because it just so happens that the Mexican independence war is being fought right at the same time the bridgertons are falling in love and i am not leaving that stone unturned

i forgot to tell y'all yesterday that it was my birthday so im telling you now but what i really came by to inform you is the fact that a little girl (like, an eight year old) keeps smiling and waving at me every time we make eye contact and i have no idea why it could be other than the fact that im very pink today and therefore we match

last week: eldest cat has severe bladder issues, i do not sleep for a week straight

this week: youngest cat gets bitten by a dog, somehow hides it from me, gets infected

next week: is cancelled. thank you.

world's okayest album. review incoming

seriously considering doxxing myself just so i can tell you in painful detail exactly how terrible im feeling right now

did they. did they remove the ability for you to see which blog the ppl on your dashboard reblogged a particular post from?

if anyone's got a fucked up little toxic ship who have wronged each other plenty but cannot quite let go, you're really gonna like this song

you know something that spirited away accomplishes very thoughtfully is the honest recognition of the magnitude in which children (and little girls particularly) are preoccupied with back doors and small spaces and secondary exits where you can exist on your own in the periphery of the bustle of the adults (ex. the entrance to the furnace room, the side entrance/porch of the bathhouse, the balcony outside the room overlooking the sea). those kind of places always featured prominently in my dreams (and continue to do so) and were often the only places us children could try our hand at solemn privacy (albeit a dramatic sort of it)

the thing about tam lin is that when the fairytale retellings were going strong in the YA publishing realm nobody was cultured enough to pick it up and thus it never seeped into the cultural zeitgeist so that the bland faerie porn populating the shelves nowadays might instead also feature a snake, a bear, a lion, a burning iron, a deer, a dove, a newt, a swan, a toad, a wolf, a greyhound, ice, and coal, and so on and so forth

i just got called madre at the bus station. madre. you know what that is? that's mother. not in the cunty way either. that man glanced at me and saw a 50 to 80 year old woman i am twenty seven

i am not objective whatsoever about my own writing i've come to learn and that disquiets me a bit. i've just posted something on another blog that's a little long and almost proper (which is to say i wasn't writing it with much care but it did take me like, two days to finish) and the response has been "oh my god this is so sad and heartbreaking" which is... not what i was expecting? the commonality of hyperbole in modern commenting practices aside, the general idea outlined was quite a bit sad but not any more so than your run of the mill unrequited love, missed chance type of deal. and i didn't think the language i used was sorrowful. pitiful at times, but not particularly potent. at most I thought it'd be taken as an intriguing idea, but perhaps that was only because i found it compelling. i know you can't control the reader's emotional response to your work, but at least you should be able to approximate it, right?

doing something both terrifying and exciting w a very important person in my field and I really wish I could tell you all about it without immediately doxxing myself

sister was getting ready to go out w her boyfriend and she came out of the room asked me if her fit was okay i gave her a thumbs up but i was suddenly overtaken by sentimentality like oh my goddd my baby sister is so big....

then that mf asked her if it wasn't better they stay home (in MY home on MY couch) to watch movies and my eyes immediately went bone dry

the collaborative nature of comics like marvel and dc naturally means that canon is an 80 year old behemoth of constant contradictions and atrocities committed unto itself. there cannot be one answer, only specific readings which must necessarily discard fractions of what's been established beforehand to hold any semblance of coherence (and even then...). even these readings can be contradictory when you shift from character to character (and there are ever so many characters...). and the thing with dc is that, unlike marvel, they don't have a long standing established cinematic universe that can serve as a springboard that the reader can return to, not only to reacquaint themselves with the characters' core but to renounce that canon too if necessary. manga and manhwa are much easier to work with, even really long manga, because different adaptations of the same story (novels, manga, anime, live actions) still use one another as a point of reference. with dc, it's not that i don't have anything to refer to, but that i have so very many things available, and for me to make a decision on what id like to keep (what i find truthful to the character) i need to be aware of things i still don't know and cannot know until i get there. my choice is contingent on a characterization that doesn't exist because i don't know the character well enough to know when they're acting ooc or not. I don't consider myself a control freak, but I'll admit it's incredibly frustrating even then.

i can't get through more than one episode of the titans tv show at a time bc i find the dick grayson there to be maddeningly attractive and this is not unlike my usual reaction to nicola coughlan in general so i do wonder how on earth will i fare when bridgerton s3 drops