Friendly reminder that this blog is pro-choice and if you don’t think everyone should have full control of their own body, then kindly unfollow me right now and go to hell
i hate to be this person because i used to roll my eyes at people who told me this but finally making myself go through uncomfortable situations for the possibility of joy has resulted in me being happier than i ever could have imagined being. i do think that you should always listen to yourself but i prevented my own happiness for a long time by not knowing how to tell intuition from overthinking and being too afraid and sticking to negative what if’s when i should have been sticking to positive what if’s. not every venture outside your comfort zone will result in some revelation that moves the earth under your feet but the probablilty of it is zero if you never venture out
This whole thread is full of people who started their periods at ages like 8 and 9, and they really wish they had a movie like Turning Red at that age, so they wouldn't have felt so weird about their normal bodies.
“Let’s put pool noodles on the goat’s horns!” says a teenager.
“Why would you, ” I begin, but they have already stampeded out of the house. I shrug.
It turns out that when someone puts pool noodles on a goat’s horns, the goat doesn’t really care. They’re very light, after all, and she can’t see them. You know who cares? Who cares a LOT?
the HORSE. Hero took one look at Nutmeg wearing pool noodles and ran away. You know who doesn’t want to be left alone, ever? Nutmeg. Who went trotting after Hero because he was leaving her.
Hero, seeing that the eldritch abomination was after him, picked up speed. Nutmeg went into a full run. My kids started chasing Nutmeg to get the pool noodles off her, but could not catch her, because she’s surprisingly fast. The dogs were bringing up the rear, just happy to be going for a pleasant run. Hero was in a panic, leading a parade that he did not want.
This all resolved. One noodle feel off; the kids eventually cornered Nutmeg and removed the other one. Just - a day at a farm, I guess.
a cute girl told me she has lots of plants in her house and i told her, for some fucking reason "damn the oxygen at your place must be mad crisp" and somehow still got her number so. chase your dreams. nothing is impossible apparently
every time i look at the mystery gang i have this like visceral feeling that someone is missing. but nobody ever is. who are they. what happened to them
me, reaching into my dresser drawer for black pants: I hope this isn’t the pair with big holes worn in the inner thighs
Marie Kondo, gently over my shoulder: why is a pair of pants you find unwearable still in your dresser drawer
me: oh shit that’s right!! The dresser is for clothes that under some circumstance I might conceivably wear!!
Marie Kondo, beaming proudly: Yes, that’s correct!! These pants must have been your favorites. How wonderful that they were so comfortable and practical that you wore them out. But now since they no longer function as pants, you should move them from the drawer where you keep your functioning pants!
me: Yes thanks I got it they’re in the fabric basket now
Marie Kondo, fading back into the darkness: I love what you’ve done with the kitchen!!
I wish there were different words for the different types of forgetting because when I say I forgot something, I don’t mean “I forgot we had plans on Friday.” I almost always mean “I forgot today was Friday.” I know my friend’s birthday is on March 20th, but I won’t wish her happy birthday on time because I won’t know it’s March 20th on March 20th. My forgetfulness has nothing to do with not caring about/remembering events and everything to do with my inability to keep up with the passage of time.
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