rest my eyes to snow-like chimes and soft footfalls on the dirt. something like a backing track to the melody. la-la-la - dirgesofegregoria.wordpress.com
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I've been doing a lot of thinking about my family and how I was treated as a child, and honestly, my father has never seemed more amazing in my eyes.
I used to love Luigi(Mario's brother) when I was little. Like, he was my favorite character ever, and I had multiple plushies of him. Didn't give a fuck about Mario, vaguely tolerated Peach, but I loved Luigi.
On my first day of kindergarten, my dad gave me the number for his work phone and said it was Luigi's phone number. "If anything happens at school, call Luigi."And not even twenty minutes into my first day, I was having a panic attack. So I went down to the principal's office and called "Luigi."
Now, at the time, my father was in a meeting with his manager and his supervisor, along with most of his coworkers. And when I called, he picked up before he even left the room.
And he put on a very awful Italian accent and said, "Itsa me, Luigi! Whatsa the matter?"In front of his boss and coworkers. Without telling them what was going on. So they were absolutely bewildered, and he carried on like they didn't even exist. He only explained what was happening after I had calmed down and hung up, to which most of them responded with "Aww, cute."
I continued to call him whenever I got upset at school, and eventually his coworkers got in on it. I distinctly remember one of them impersonating Toad. I don't know why I'm telling you this, I just thought it might make you smile :)
this is so delightful I love your Luigi dad
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Chocolate-coated marshmallow treat: *exists*

Literally every country:
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When I am appointed to represent a child, my first action is to separate them from their parents and tell them the following things:
1. I am their attorney. I do not work for their parent or the judge or the cops. I don’t care what any of those people want.
2. My job is to listen to them and try and make what they want happen in court. (At this point I make a joke about how most people want me to get them out of trouble but if someone wanted to be in trouble I would do my best.)
3. What they tell me is confidential. It goes nowhere unless they agree to it. (If old enough, I talk to them about mandatory reporters, and how I’m a mandatory non reporter.)
4. I will give them lots of advice because I’ve been doing court for a while and I know a lot about it, and they don’t. It’s all really complicated, and if they don’t understand what’s happening it’s my job to help them figure it out.
5. They will make the decisions. (At this point I usually have to reassure them that I’ll help, I’ll speak for them in front of the judge, and I’ve got their back. It’s scary to have an adult say you’re in charge, most of the time.)
6. I tell them I know it’s absolutely wild to have some stranger come in here and say “hey, you can trust me!” and that I get if they don’t believe everything right away, because I plan to show them through my actions and my words that I’ll fight for them.
7. But nonetheless, I will treat them like a person who can make decisions, because they are living their life and I am not.
I do not:
Pretend to be cool.
Try to be their BFF.
Overwhelm them with detail.
Let their parents in the room until the kid asks for them. (I provide openings for this, and ask if the kid wants their parent to help them remember and understand.)
I want to emphasize I went into this job knowing nothing about how to interact with vulnerable populations, especially children. The training was minimal, and my role means that I can literally walk into a facility and get an unmonitored visit with a minor client one on one.
In my years of practice I have never felt threatened by a child, even one that was “violent” and “unstable.” It turns out just saying “hi, I think you’re a person with thoughts” is wildly successful? Now people treat me like I have special Child Whisperer powers. My powers are that I ask the child what’s up and I’m not scared to say things that are objectively awkward. I know nothing about anything.
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hell yesssss thank youuuuu for the reminder micheal my man gonna splurge with this one boys I totally forgot about my cent #mycent
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Hey imagine having a garden separated from the street by a high wall, and then building a ramp to your garden with a cat door at human head level, both at just the right height so your dog can peer outside without bothering anyone.
This way, the dog can safely observe the world outside and judge everyone without any risk of someone getting out or in. And why would you want the cat flap on human head level? Simple. Anubis mural.
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me: hey, there’s a documentary about a topic I am already interested in! let’s watch it!
me watching: already knew that. already knew that. wrong. already knew that. true but misleading. already knew that. already knew that. leaves out the important part. already knew that
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A fantasy story starting with the protagonist minding her own business gathering firewood, when a demon appears out of nowhere announcing that she belongs to him now. The protagonist demands to know on what grounds, she's never signed no damn contract. The demon is kind of baffled by this, and awkwardly explains that just now her father had promised his firstborn for something, and she is his firstborn.
The protagonist digs her heels in and says no, she never knew her biological father and by the way the demon explained the situation, evidently her father also doesn't know that he already has a daughter, so therefore the man who had made no contribution to her life after he bred and fled has no claim to her as something he could barter.
Not giving a shit about the fact she's gambling her life in doing so, the protagonist makes contact with the local woodland fae, asking them to negotiate on her side. The fae think that this is fucking hilarious and go with her. So, having lawyered up and with a reluctant demon in tow, the protagonist heads off on a quest to find her father and do whatever it takes to wrangle everyone involved into unmaking the contract.
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Sometimes it feels like you've lived your whole life in a house that's always a little bit on fire. Like it's usually just in one room and you make sure to wet the walls around it so it doesn't spread and that usually works. You were expected to take more responsibility over fire containment when you were like seven because it's not like you can expect your parents to always be 100% on guard about making sure the whole house doesn't catch fire, and you figure that's just how things are like.
And sometimes as a kid you visit your friends' homes and some of then whisper to you - grimacing with embarrassment - about how they're not supposed to tell anyone this, but there's a whole room in their house that's currently on fire. And you're like yeah it's ok I'm not supposed to tell people about the way our house is a little bit on fire all the time, too. And then you visit some other friend's house and there's no trace of fire anywhere, and you think "wow, these people are really good at hiding their house fire."
And one day you show up to work like "hey sorry I'm late, I forgot to wet the walls before going to bed last night and my whole house burned down", and you're startled by the way people react, acting like that must be the worst thing that has ever happened to you. And you're just like "chill, it's been years since the last time this happened, and it wasn't even that bad this time", and that just makes people more shocked, acting like that's the weirdest and most concerning thing they've ever heard anyone say, which only confuses you more.
And then someone tries to explain to you that people aren't supposed to have an ongoing house fire. Most people actually never experience a house fire in their lives. Like not even once. Not even a little bit. The normal amount of having your house be currently on fire is zero.
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The fact that animals that care for their young will sometimes adopt others' lost or orphaned young to raise along their own is just funny to me. I know that it's all hormonal and there's no conscious thought involved in it, but the internal logic of it is so funny.
"Baby = success. More baby = more success. I have one baby and I found four other baby. I have five baby. I am being so fucking successful right now."
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Get yourself a fabric store that will light your fabric on fire for you
No but legit I asked what the fiber content of something was and the guy didn’t know so he cut a chunk off and lit it on fire and felt the ashes and was like. Yeah this is mostly cotton with a lil bit of silk. And that was the moment I knew. This is it. This is the fabric store for me. Also that guy is marriage material. Not for me but damn some person is gonna be so happy with him.
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