#sometimes I don't feel like buying a xmas gift

[lesless]

glowing, growing 🔮 🍀

It is gently dropping small, delicate flakes of white outside & the air is so still, quiet, like a whisper. My love took the dog & headed out to a town 2 hours away to meet his father so he can spend tomorrow working on an initiative that may prove to be a wonderful investment of time/energy/etc., but not without quite a lot of work first. I am proud of him in a lot of ways, but I will miss him. I do enjoy my down time though, so I will make the most of it.

I had planned on meeting up with a friend tonight after she had dinner with her sister, but neither of us wanted to do much once the sky grew grey & it began to snow. I wrote a list of what I want to do solo tomorrow--tea (I need to reign back my coffee consumption, again), journal, breakfast, eat, go to yoga, get a juice from the place next door to the studio, a bath with the bath bomb I bought at the botanical gardens. Then, get some work done on the photo and/or writing project, buy some yarn to make gifts, write xmas cards, then maybe meet up with that friend I missed today. It sounds like a great solo day, exactly the kind of thing I like to do! A little chill, a little activity/movement in the A.M., a little productivity, a little shopping, a little fun.

It is funny that since I sorted through my clothes & replaced them with quality items I enjoy wearing that I feel like I have SO many options but I have SUCH a small number of items now compared to when I started weeding out synthetics. I have reflected that life is funny like that, sometimes when we lack quality we go for quantity, don't we?

Being deliberate in purchasing/replacing items has been a years-long thing & lately I do feel surprised that interacting with quality on a regular basis is satisfying, though I have kind of always held the idea that spending extra $ on things you interact with daily will make your daily experience more enjoyable. A nice face wash, comfortable bedsheets, decent rubber gloves to wash dishes in. I suppose I will just never stop appreciating little things in life.

Sunday bb will return, we will relax & play BG3, spend our last little bit of solo time together until next year, quite literally. Tuesday our friend arrives, I visit the allergist, then Thursday my cousin arrives, then Sunday we fly to Texas, then it's holiday madness & remote work, then we fly to Mexico, the new year blooms, more remote work, & we return to life & a new semester.

In more mundane news, I told myself that I would learn how to french braid my hair while it's short so I can become accustomed to it as it grows out & I have stuck to my word! 3 successful braids so far, though my arms do get exhausted & I feel feeble every time I braid it. Just as I feel weak every time I do core exercises (2 down this week! pretty good considering I spent 3 full & exhausting days in the office today) at least I'm doing it! I will get better! I can't expect myself to be good at something right off the bat, as much as I want to be for my ego's sake.

I still always feel at least a little anxious after socializing with people I am not intimately close with, & I have done an assload of socializing over the last 3 days, BUT I feel relatively unscathed after this week. 2 fumbles, which I felt I saved, & maybe I shouldn't be cataloging my social blunders mentally but also maybe mentally I'm a little left of center & I should just be OK with that, too, instead of self-monitoring so heavily. Anyway, I think the level of comfort I DO feel has a lot to do with the fact that I really just feel delightful about the people I work with; I really genuinely like them all. They are all such characters, so knowledgeable, incredibly well-intentioned, & most of them are as sassy & quippy as I enjoy in a person without the malicious undertone that often accompanies that trait.

Anyway I am trying to remind myself that bettering is incremental & when I look back at how far I have come I am proud of myself, too. Lastly, perhaps, I must shake the scolding I want to give myself at every imperfection.

It is a beautiful night & I am comfortable, listening to music & watching everything collect a thin layer of white outside of my window. I have things to look forward to, people to love, people to love me back, humble goals, & a deep appreciation for the now. I hope you, too, find a quiet sort of peace as the year wraps itself in darkness & cold. I hope spring makes you feel like you can start over if you need to. I hope you treat yourself gently tomorrow.

[loveyourlovelysoul]

Okay let me tell you a story and my thoughts on it

-mother: *nagging at me and my brother cause she doesn't know what to buy us for xmas and trying to make us feel guilty* (she HAS to, it's her primal need to gift us/everyone something, but not necessarily something that we really like/need/want: she needs to know she has done amazingly anyway -yeah, the trauma TM) -me 4 hours later: so at the store there was this kit to paint rocks and woods with brushes and all, so good! -mother: oh we have to buy it for your cousin! don't you think? she likes to paint -me: yeah ofc -me, in my mind: I knew I should have bought it myself lol (side notes: in my family basically everyone knows I like to paint and have been trying/wanting to paint on rocks and wood for a while; my father was present too and he looked at me pretty confused about my mum LOL)

Why am I telling you this? Cause of many reasons

Mostly, it's a reminder about open communication: sometimes people simply aren't ready/open enough to listen to your needs if they aren't openly expressed, or they are too stressed/triggered about something else in that moment to do so.

OR, at times you're unconsciously not their priority cause of their trauma: my mother needs to do well/be perfect/impeccable in front of her sister and the rest of our family cause she has been compared with her a lot and still feels heavily judged by everyone, so she can indeed *even unconsciously* put me and my bother, her own flash and bones, in a secondary position or "forget" about us. I'm not justifying her, this is is not to say we're not hurt about being failed and pushed aside, at all. We are, it really plays/ed with us in different ways cause we're two different people. But this is simply to give a more complete look on what is going on. It doesn't have to solely/simply be that she doesn't love us or we're not enough to receive love or anything else (this is the message we indirectly got from her behaviour: almost every child would understand any similar behaviour in the same exact way and bring it with themselves through their whole life making them feel constantly unworthy/wrong); it's her problem/trauma speaking and moving onto our generation in a different form. And we can decide to block it. Let it hurt us still ofc, because it does, as it feels like she doesn't know us or see us or consider us, but we can put in under a different perspective that doesn't make us guilty of anything: we are in fact not guilty, we're enough and worthy, and someone else will understand (see my father that despite his own many issues, doesn't care much about xmas, gifts, what the rest of our family thinks nor feels judged by them, and therefore got what I meant) and show us.

It's often about understanding who can really listen to us and meet our needs (some won't ever be able because of their problems, unless we really are clear and we really want them to listen to us) and who can not; understanding when they can too because you know, as mentioned, everyone has their own issues and when we're overwhelmed it's harder to listen to others openly and intuitively, it's easier to listen to our own worries. That's okay too. You can be more open about your needs with those you want to be able to meet them. Don't let the fear of speaking up and being judged in any way block you. You're worth being heard, seen, loved and helped and all.

[ashtrayfloors]

In the grand tradition of me, I started this journal entry ages ago, but then more stuff kept happening before I could finish it. Let’s see if I can get it all down—

I’ll start with the hard things.

There's my perpetual broke-ness; trying to prepare for the impending holidays while not having a lot of money to buy gifts. And that's fine for my friends and most of my family members—they appreciate handmade gifts. But for my kids? Well, I'm hustling every day to have enough money to buy them some gifts. (It's especially difficult because C.’s birthday is four days before Xmas, so we have to buy gifts for that, too.)

There's a struggle I'm having in regards to my mom; I've written about that extensively in my private journal and don't feel like rehashing it here right now, because it makes me too upset.

And D.'s been struggling again, with anger, and with (lack of) focus. I’m not sure if we need to increase the dosage of his meds or what. I hope that he gets into equine therapy soon (he’s on a waitlist), because my cousin S.’s daughter M. tried years of different meds and talk therapy for her depression and anxiety and PTSD, and none of that has helped her as much as equine therapy has. In the meantime, we’re trying to limit his video game time, because even though gaming is his favorite thing, it also brings out his rage like nothing else.

There are my own mental illnesses and disabilities, which can make even good days turn pretty shit.

And there have been some writing rejections, which have sucked on two levels. One being that these were paying publications, and I fucking need the money. The other being that getting rejected just fucking sucks. (At least rejections no longer send me into a I'm never writing again spiral like they used to; though they do occasionally send me into an I’m never submitting again, fuck traditional publishing, I’ll self-publish everything from now on spiral.)

But then there’s so much good (or at least happysad) stuff, too. I’ve been writing a lot; mostly poetry but also some prose. I’ve been working on my Rimbaud translations again, and now I finally know what I’m going to do with them. I’ve been reading a lot—new and new-to-me stuff, plus rereading some of my perennial favorites. Same with music and television/movies—I’m spending about equal amounts of time on discovering new things and rediscovering old favorites. I’ve been doing as much as I can both dayjob-wise and side hustle-wise and activism-wise, but also trying to take it easy on myself when I need to rest. Speaking of rest and self-care, I’ve been drinking less coffee and more tea. (Even caffeinated tea is better for me than coffee; too much coffee makes me jittery and anxious, whereas caffeinated tea does not do that, no matter how much I drink. Also, I’ve been having a lot of stomachaches lately, and coffee makes them worse whereas tea actually helps.) And speaking of dayjobs, P. has started actively applying for work again. I’ve been spending a lot of time in my favorite places here in Racine, and thinking about how much I love it. It’s funny, for a lot of years I thought I’d rather live anywhere other than here. Even when I did move back, I thought it was only temporary. But sometime in the past eight years (around the time I became Poet Laureate) it started to feel like home, and I will be sad when I do leave it.

On the 9th, I drove down to DeKoven (a place I have written about a lot over the years, including in one of the pieces in my most recent zine), to the art gallery there, to set up for our art and poetry event. It was a perfect fall day; leaves wet from recent rain, a chill wind off the lake. I helped hang the art and set up the sculptures; I also hung my poems on the wall next to the pieces which inspired them, and added relevant decorative embellishments with oil pastels. I remembered how much I like being involved in the actual set-up of an art show. And I got to see some folks I hadn’t seen in a while, and also met a few new people, including a gorgeous woman named K. It was her birthday; she was wearing a gold glitter jacket, shedding sparkles everywhere, and she brought cupcakes and sparkling grape juice to share with everyone. By the time I left, it was full dark, and there, over the lake to the south, was the skyline of Kenosha, glittering gold in the blue-black.

Two nights later was the art and poetry event, so it was back to DeKoven, hat on my head and boots on my feet, jazz on the radio. It turned out to be one of the best nights I’ve had in a few months. I drank a La Fin du Monde; one of my favorite beers since I first tried it in Montreal twenty goddamn years ago. All the art was amazing; all the poets writing in response to it wrote amazing stuff. I love poetry readings like that, where everyone has very different styles but they are all so fucking good.

I got to see two more old friends for the first time in quite a while—J.E. and N.R. N.R. is one of my favorite people ever, like he is just the type of person who makes friends with everyone and is chill with everything. We were both drinking beer, and laughing about how back in the day we would’ve been smoking weed, too, but how now we can’t do both at the same time anymore or we just get sleepy. During the intermission, J.E. and I stood outside smoking cigarettes, and we talked about everything. I asked how he was, and he said, “Well, I don’t want to die most days anymore, so I’d say I’m doing alright.” And then he said: “I hope that’s okay to say, it’s just, you’re this person I trust that when you ask me how I’m doing, I can be honest about it, no bullshit.” And I said: “You’re absolutely right.” And then I went on to talk about how sometimes I still think ‘I wanna die,’ but it’s not really that I want to die, it’s that I want my life and/or the world to be completely different, and he totally understood what I was saying. Then we talked about parenting, the great parts and the hard parts, and we talked about living in poverty, and I just. I know I’ve mentioned it before but I’m so glad that we are friends now. As fucked up as we both were when we first met back in 2008, I’m so glad that after years of not talking to one another, over the past almost four years we’ve become close and now I consider him not just a casual acquaintance but a good goddamn friend.

I got a bunch of compliments on my poems/performance, including people saying my stuff reminded them of the Beats but that I’d surpassed them, and the poet who was set to perform after me saying “how am I supposed to follow that?!” I met a bunch of new amazing people that night, too. Like P.W., a Romanian man who was one of the artists that had work as part of the event; he had the sexiest accent and looked super sexy, too. I’m pretty sure he’s a bit younger than I am, but he’s fully silver-haired, and gorgeous. Like T., who was one of the artists and one of the poets, and he was wearing an amazing shirt—a button-down with a print of ink pots, fountain pens, and notebooks. And K. was there, too, because she was one of the poets, and her words were fire, and she was gorgeous in a tight dress and tall boots and a beret. After the performance part of the night was over, I hung out for a while, finishing my beer, talking with people. T. and I talked about God, and the mycellium network, and mycellium-as-God; we talked about Beat poets and bisexuality. He has such an interesting story. He’s in his 60s. He married a woman in his early 20s, and always knew he was also into men, but they were monogamous and he loved his wife very much. She died about five years ago, and he still loves her (I could tell just by the way he talked about her), but now he’s dating a man for the first time ever in his life, and loves his current partner very much, too. He also told me he found me fascinating, and wanted to write a poem about me. I talked with P.W. again for a bit, he said he’d like to paint me sometime if I’d be interested in modeling for him, and uh, well. I didn’t commit to anything, because I felt a spark of attraction and though I wasn’t sure if he felt one, too, I knew if he did it could turn into a complicated situation.

Then I went outside to have a cigarette. J.E. was already outside smoking, and P.W. and K. joined us, as well as K.’s friend that had come with her to the event. K. was out of cigarettes, so I rolled one for her. J.E. said: “I’m not gonna lie, your ‘Blue’ poem was kinda long, and I started getting a little sleepy while you read it.” P.W. said: “I didn’t think it was too long. I liked listening to you read it. If it did make me feel sleepy, it was in a good way. Like a beautiful lullaby.” Which, well, wow. We all stood quiet for a minute, smoking; smelling the shit smell wafting from the wastewater treatment plant. K. and her friend left.

Then this very drunk young woman walked up to us. She was swaying slightly on her feet, holding a plastic cup of beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Turned out she was there for her sister’s wedding reception, which was being held in the great hall part of DeKoven. “Most of the people there other than my girlfriend are super boring and straight, but I didn’t want to stand alone while I smoked, and I saw your hat,” she pointed at me, “and decided to come over here. You’re not straight, are you?” she asked me. “No, no I’m not,” I said. “I knew it!” she said. “No straight person could pull a hat like that off so well!” Then: “Anyway. I’m L., I’m gay, and I have a useless English degree.” J.E. and I laughed, and said: “Join the club! We have useless English degrees too!” She said: “No, you don’t understand, mine is with a concentration in creative writing, so it’s extra useless.” “Us too!” we said. She went on to talk about how she’d tried to write fiction but her stories sucked so she gave up and now just worked in customer service. J.E. said: “Have you tried writing poetry?” But he said it in this sort of creepy, Waits-y growl, like he was some criminal or pervert in a trenchcoat, lurking in a dark alley, like: “Hey, kid, you wanna try poetry?” So I just fucking lost it at that. When I’d stopped laughing, J.E. and I both tried telling her in all seriousness that well, of course most writers, including ourselves, do non-creative writing work to pay the bills, but that we still write. We told her that, in fact, that’s why we were there that night; we’d just done a poetry reading. Then the topic moved on to where we were from/lived. L. said she was from San Diego originally but now lived with her girlfriend in Brooklyn: “But not the cool part. The part that sucks.” Soon after, a very dapper, short butch woman came running over: “There you are!” she said to L. “Oh, hey everyone,” L. said, “this is my girlfriend.” Then, to her girlfriend: “I came over here because of her hat,” she said, pointing to me again. “It is a great hat,” said her girlfriend. “Thank you for taking care of my lost puppy,” she said. “I was in the bathroom when she disappeared and I got worried.” “We should probably get back to the reception,” L. said, rolling her eyes. “You guys should come crash it! There’s plenty of free beer and wine!” And they walked away. I considered it for a split second; that’s the kind of thing I would’ve done in a heartbeat in my younger days, and it has been a very long time since I’ve done anything that spontaneous and wild—but it was already 9:30 and I had to get home to put C. to bed.

“I should probably get going,” I told J.E. and P.W. “Yeah, we’re gonna leave soon, too,” J.E. said. “I’m crashing at P.W.’s place because he only lives a few blocks from here, and I’m too drunk to drive all the way back to Kenosha.” “You could stay there, too,” P.W. said to me, “I mean, if you don’t feel safe driving far.” The smile on his face told me everything I needed to know: Yep, he felt something, too, and may not have been offering his house as a crashpad for wholly gentlemanly reasons. Again, I considered it for a split second. Again, something I would have done in a heartbeat in my younger days… “Thanks for the offer, but I’m fine. I’ve only had one beer and I don’t live that far away.” I waved goodbye and walked to my car. A little sad that I wasn’t crashing a wedding or crashing at a relative stranger’s house, but mostly just buzzed from the great night, the art and poetry and all the beautiful people I met. I remembered, for the one millionth time, how much happier I am when I can get out in the world and be among other people.

Two days later, C. and I went to the library. Everything was beautiful, the lake and the wind and the golden light. They were having craft day in the kids’ department, doing a Diwali craft, so we stayed for that. They showed a short video about Diwali and then had the kids do a modified version of Diwali sand art—glued onto plates, rather than just free-form. C. had a lot of fun with it. That day was also D.’s birthday, my first baby is twelve now, which is wild to me. We celebrated at my parents’ house. D. really loved his disco ball piñata; I’m so glad we were able to make that happen. Two days after that, C. and I met my mom downtown. It was another gorgeous day, sunny, warm for the time of year; we walked around, went into some shops, I took photos of jukeboxes and cigarette machines sitting in the window of a closed-down store. And another two days after that, P. and I took the kids to Mound Cemetery, to visit the Native American burial mounds, as well as to see some of the old graves. The next week and a bit was work, activism, the dailinesses of life, taking food to my favorite neighbor. Then Thanksgiving, which was less stressful than holidays with my parents often are, though not without some hiccups because I don’t think there can be a holiday without some kind of stress.

Two days after that, I drove to DeKoven again; I was meeting some of my poetry friends there so we could record our videos for next year’s Woodland Pattern Poetry Marathon. I had to run a couple errands first, and on my drive through downtown, I saw a group of young (late-teen or early-20s, I couldn’t tell) punks, and they reminded me so much of myself and my friends at that age, and it made me so happy that there are still punk kids stalking the streets of midsized midwest cities, looking simultaneously tough and awkward. N.R. and J.E. were at DeKoven for the recording session, along with S.K. and J.P. N.R. had brought a small cooler full of beer, and so he and J.E. and I each drank one. In between recording, the five of us talked about relationships and food and publishing and poetry and various other topics. After I’d recorded my poems, both of which mentioned ghosts, we talked about ghosts. J.E. asked me if I believed in ghosts. He said he’d had weird experiences that could’ve been ghostly, but he wasn’t sure if he wholly believed or not. I said I’m kind of the same way—I’ve had experiences that I can’t explain away with a more ‘rational’ explanation, but I can’t say with 100% certainty that they were paranormal experiences, either. “I guess you could say I’m a ghost agnostic,” I said. Then I mentioned that DeKoven and the area surrounding it is supposedly one of the most haunted places in Racine; I said I’d had weird experiences on the grounds in the past but never any in that particular building. Less than thirty seconds after I said that, we all heard a noise in the room above us, like footsteps walking across the room, and then a door opening and shutting, softly. There was no one else in the building at the time. It was really as though a ghost heard our conversation and was like: “Oh, you’ve never had an experience in this building before? Oh, you’re not sure you believe in ghosts? How about now???” After we’d finished recording, we all hung out for a bit, and then I got ready to leave. N.R. said: “I’d like to hug you, if that’s okay,” and it was, and I was pleased because I love hugging my friends, but there are times when I’m not in the mood, and it’s nice when people check. When I left, it was dark, and I saw the waxing moon and Saturn, both rising over the lake. My parents were watching the kids for the afternoon/evening, so P. and I got to have an at-home date night. We had good sex and then cooked a great dinner.

The next day it got a lot colder, and snowed, and we had a cozy-at-home day; I spent most of the day drinking tea and reading, and also made some cookies. The day after that I felt under the weather—not an illness, just a flare-up of my recurrent issues—but I took it easy, with more tea and reading. The day after that, my period started, much earlier than I was expecting it. Over the past couple years, when my cycle changes due to stress or illness, my period now starts early; when I was younger, stress or illness always made it late. I don’t miss the pregnancy scares, but I do hate that I have to bleed even more frequently now. But it wasn’t so bad, no cramps this time. And that evening, P. and I got to have a delicious holiday stout at the pub where we went to pick up dinner for us, the kids, and my parents. The night after that, I got the news of Henry Kissinger’s death, and said good fucking riddance, it was nice to hear about a death that in no way made me sad.

And then, within five minutes of waking up on Thursday morning, I saw the news that Shane MacGowan had died. And I just…I don’t know how to explain all the things this has brought up for me. I’m working on a longer piece for my newsletter, about Shane and The Pogues, but in the meantime, I’ll just say… I mean, I already had a bunch of Pogues songs saved as drafts on my blog, and I’d already been listening to them a lot, starting in mid-November. November and December are Pogues months for me. Because of the weather, but also because of certain November/December memories which are attached to Pogues songs. And Filia and I were texting about it, because she gets it, understands why this is so devastating, was just as devastated, and I miss her, I will always miss her. And of course it got me thinking about Joe Strummer’s death, twenty-one fucking years ago, how she was the one that broke the news to me, over the phone, after I’d just gotten home from visiting her, and somehow Shane’s death feels close to Joe’s death. I don’t mean time-wise, obviously; I mean, in terms of how sad it makes me. Or something. Fuck. And I said on my main blog that Filia is the only person I know IRL who gets it, but of course that’s a lie. Because there’s also fucking Derry. He fucking knew Shane, like, personally (not super well, but still), and the night he first kissed me is one of the November nights attached to a Pogues song (see: A Foggy Night in Lakeview, the lyric essay/mini-zine I wrote about that night and “A Rainy Night in Soho.”), and. Well. We’ve already opened up the lines of communication between us again in the past year and a bit and I knew that if I didn’t email him he was going to email me anyway, so I sent him a message. He responded later that day, and I miss him, I will always miss him.

The rest of the day wasn’t terrible. I made that Saint MacGowan art piece. It was a warmer day, so C. and I took a long walk around the neighborhood. We picked up nature treasures, and saw the silliest doggo, who barked at us and then kept bringing toys up to the window and shaking them, as though it wanted us to come inside and play—and when we of course did not, he’d go get another toy and bring it over, as though it was the toy that was the problem and not the fact that he was inside and we were out. Later, I made a delicious tikka masala for dinner. Then, I rearranged my altar, lit some candles, turned on The Pogues, and said a slainté for Shane. I was having this conflicting feeling about drinking that night, given Shane’s lifelong struggles with addiction, and my own past struggles with it. Part of me thought about never touching a drop of alcohol again; part of me wanted to get shitfaced. Ultimately, I did neither. I drank one Guinness, and the shot of Jameson I’d been saving for some unspecified occasion—Thursday night was that occasion.

The next day, I got double-vaxxed. CoViD and flu. The pharmacist that administered the vaccines was cute and kinda punky looking, and the vaccines themselves didn’t feel too bad. But I started feeling woozy within in an hour of receiving the vaccines, and felt like death warmed over for about 48 hours afterward. Sweats, chills, body aches, fatigue, brain fog, painful swollen lymph node in my armpit, the whole bit. I took it super easy Saturday; just laid around in bed drinking tea, reading, watching documentaries, and crying a lot. P. made stir fry for dinner. Yesterday I still took it pretty easy, and I felt mostly better by late afternoon. We roasted a chicken and some potatoes and asparagus for dinner; a simple comfort meal that was perfect for a chill-damp Sunday night.

I have jury duty this week (which is the reason I got double-vaxxed), and I’m hoping I don’t have to go in. I called in last night about today, and there are no new cases going to trial, so I’m off the hook for today at least. Today is National Cookie Day, and the kids want to make gingerbread cookies, so that’s my main plan for the day. Next Saturday is the last BONK! ever, and I’m so fucking sad about that, you have no idea. It has been going on for fifteen years. I have been a performer and an attendee so many times. I have given some of my best performances there, and seen so many other amazing poets and musicians. It makes me want to start my own performance series, just to keep something like that going in this town, but I have no idea how to go about it.

Other things from these past weeks: Intense, vivid dreams. Some hot ones—I’ve recently had sex dreams about both [redacted] and [redacted]. Others that wreck me when I wake up and realize they’re just dreams—like the one I had last week, in which Jack Terricloth was still alive, and Maggie and I were still friends. Memories of old friends and lovers—those gone from the world or just gone from my life, and those still alive and in my life (but the memories of how we were, back when). Moments of intense, unbidden nostalgia; of slipping in and out of times past. A certain hat or pair of boots, a certain smell or taste, a certain song, and suddenly it’s 1999, 2003, 2004, 2007, 2008, 2010, 2015, 2019. Moments of the DJs on my favorite radio station playing songs that are deeply relevant to either my mood or what I’m thinking about, as though they’re reading my mind. Watching possums in the yard. Melancholy weather—when it got colder and snowed, everything was beautiful for a few days, but then it warmed up slightly, and now it’s that late November/early December season. “Locking,” Kurt Vonnegut called it. Or, to misquote Sylvia Plath: the best of autumn gone, the new winter not yet born. Cold, but not cold enough to snow. Mist and fog and rising damp.

And my heart breaks every goddamn day. From the pain of life and the world, but also from the beauty.

[taeyungie]

spent $300 on xmas shopping… i'm never shopping again 😭 having a few friends is still not helping me lol. its kinda bittersweet tho cus one friend i shopped for, we're more like distant friends. we still see each other sometimes & buy gifts on holidays/birthdays but their gifting efforts are always very generic (lotions, candles, etc) and i see that but i still tried to make it as personal as i can without knowing them too much these days. but even tho the gifts are generic they (sometimes) cost a lot and then i feel obligated to match that energy when i dont even make that much. weird right?

oh my gosh that is...A LOT😬orrrr maybe it just seems like it because when should we spend that type of money if not on christmas and especially on the people we love right!!!! i totally understand you, gift giving is honestly that activity not everybody will be good at though! i think it's the sweetest when someone is trying hard to find a personalized gift for you, to make it special or because they don't want to buy any generalized stuff, that's wonderful! but i think some people are not very good at it hahah and it's not because they don't care about you or that they don't know what you like, it's just... some people are just not very good at showing closeness and their feelings through the gifts, you know? which doesn't mean they don't hope for the best outcome even when they gift you a candle lol ❤ i think some people pay more attention to it than others, the same with showing love and care in different ways! someone might be better at expressing them out loud and some might be better at organizing quality time for you! but for those who feel good at expressing their love in a form of gifts and wanting to make them special, to even match the price or the quality, seems very logical and reasonable thing to do hehe i think it's very very sweet ❤ but as always, if you feel like you're trying so hard but they don't give the same amount of love back to you... maybe try talking to them a little about it ❤ if you feel like it drains you because you're putting a lot of effort into someone that gives you the bare minimum.. try to approach it differently 💘 and don't worry too much! you're an amazing person and it's wonderful how you want to make others happy 💘

[40sandfabulousaf]

大家好! I introduced Pa to the airconditioned place which sells local coffee, but that day the taste wasn't fantastic and he didn't like it. No matter, there're coffee shops to introduce him to and he enjoys exploring new venues like I do. I'll still return to that airconditioned place for a meal and coffee sometimes because they serve up decent portions and the food is tasty. I don't feel like I'm being fleeced when I dine there.

In the office this week, everyone was in a good mood, with plenty of jokes and teasing as we wound down for the holidays. The office asked us to bring a small present for the gift exchange after lunch yesterday. We were allowed to leave the office 2 hours early so that colleagues could rush home to prepare for Xmas eve. The short work day was what I looked forward to most. Even better, the next 2 weeks are shorter work weeks thanks to Xmas and New Year's Day both falling on Mondays!

About 1,200 Israeli and over 19,000 Palestinian civilians have perished so far, thousands have lost their homes and there's nowhere for them to go. Safety, which many take for granted as a basic human right, isn't afforded to them. A ceasefire, which could've spared innocent lives and allowed much needed humanitarian aid to flow into Gaza, was vetoed - more than once - by the US. Where is the concern for human rights? What price do Palestinians have to pay for Israel to achieve its goals and is it fair to expect them to pay that price?

I did receive some lovely presents; alas, due to the 10-photo limit per post, I cannot share all of them. I'm so grateful that even though I don't celebrate Xmas and don't buy gifts except if the office requires it, I still receive lovely ones every year. Most will be given away, which is what I do every year. The best present to me will be a ceasefire and for innocent Palestinian civilian lives to be spared. These people have suffered so very much and I pray that they'll finally get to enjoy basic human rights.

This Xmas, I choose to believe that there's good in this world and there're people who choose to live life with compassion. I choose to believe that kindness still exists and that there're others like me who just cannot bear watching civilians die morbid deaths or suffer any longer. I choose to believe that good will triumph and forbid evil from taking more innocent lives. This has to happen and it will. 下次见!

[wooahaes]

Don't stress yourself out too much with writing! Scheduling fics seems so organized and thought out lol. Dang you must be organized. Just out of curiosity, if you get people stuff for Xmas, do you buy it well in advance? You give me that kind of vibe. I on the other hand have definitely got stuff for my fam on Xmas Eve lol. UtS has been so good so far, but don't rush it if you don't feel like writing it. Its always worth the wait, you have such a good way with words! V immersive writing -🍧

i don't buy christmas gifts tbh. i don't have money but even if i did, i'm more acts of service/lets go experience something/i'll make you something, tbh? i hate buying gifts and i always have lmao (i hate receiving gifts more unless its money bc at least i can save money for stuff)

ty tho! scheduling stuff rn is just bc most fall fics are short so i can kinda get several of em out usually in one sitting and it means i can focus on other stuff in the meantime :0 also sdkfhdsf ty... ive genuinely just been wanting to work on jihoon's part but i feel like i've kind-of hit a wall sometimes. it's been the same w sweet night where i was enjoying writing it and then i kinda lost motivation and now im struggling to continue it.

also tysm aaa im glad to hear i have a way w words!! words are all i've really got going for me haha

[oddsnendsfanfics]

Unraveling Over the Holidays

Genre: Fan Fiction

Pairing: Henry Cavill/OFC

Warnings: Fluff. Implied Pandemic world we live in

Rating: G

Length: Drabble

Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.  

A/N: Inspired by the need to write more Henry and Nell, along with Henry’s latest IG post and here we have it. 

Henry Cavill Master List

“Almost have it, Wild Boy.” Henry announced looking into the abyss of the computer they were attempting to build.  This was their second this year, a true feat. Rarely did Henry and Ivan get the time to break down and rebuild their own systems. It was a welcome hobby, keeping them busy when there wasn't much else to do these days.

They had been working away on the project since breakfast. Frustrated mumbling and grunting seemed to be the only sounds coming from the other room. Nell listened, checking in on them from time to time, waiting for them to finish. Today was the day they were going to finally trim their Christmas tree. After days of waiting, it would finally be a sight to behold. Or as much a sight to behold as they could manage. All in all Nell felt that she decorated a pretty damn fine looking tree.

It was shortly after lunch, when Nell began to get annoyed. When she'd brought in a plate of sandwiches and asked her husband and son if they would be done soon, both had told her that they needed ten more minutes. Three hours and one boasting Instagram photo later...

“Dad, I think I have this backwards.” Ivan furrowed his brow staring at the piece that he was attempting to put in.

“Let me look.” Henry moved to take a closer inspection.

Not wanting the break anything, risking a costly repair. Ivan was learning fast and enjoyed working with his hands. More than that, he really enjoyed the uninterrupted time with his dad. “Not backwards, but the next slot over.” Instructing his son how to put the piece in properly.

Neither of them seeming to notice or care that Nell had drug out their boxes of Christmas decorations. Outside, she and Henry had strung lights in a few bushes and around their garden early in the month. Wanting to get it done in case they got an unexpected cold or worse. Inside Nell had put up her favourite battery operated candles, the old fashioned looking ones that stood in the windows. Every window in the farm house had a candle display. The kitchen had lights and a few decorations, the sitting room, the office, and even the bathrooms were ready.

All they needed was to get the tree decorated. Presents under a naked tree was plain wrong.

“Henry, Ivan.” Nell tapped her foot on the floor, her arms folded across her chest. Huffing at the two of them. She should have known better than to let them tear apart that damn computer this morning.

“I think she saw.” Ivan wasn't doing a very good job at whispering, his mother could hear him on the other side of the room. Nell rolled her eyes. Of course she had saw the photo, over 3,000 people had saw that photo and it had only taken five minutes.

“What is it, darling?” Henry leaned back in his chair, glancing over his shoulder at his wife. Smiling sweetly, his usual trick when he wanted to attempt getting out of something.

“Tree.” She gestured to the tree behind her.

“What about it? Is it too dry? Ivan, didn't I ask you to water that this morning?” Shaking his head, Henry glanced at his son.

“I did, dad.” Ivan huffed, holding the light at the perfect angle to see inside the box.

“Guys, can we please decorate this tree? It's been here since Sunday.”

“We'll get to it.”

“When? It's already Friday. Henry, we have had this in here for nearly a week. A naked, boring, lackluster tree.” Lecturing, Nell rubbed her temples, “Christmas is in a week! A week! This is the latest we have ever left the tree.”

Setting down his manual, Henry pushed his chair away from the desk, standing to observe the tree. He hadn't thought it was that big of a deal, they had gone last week and picked out the tree, Henry wasn't sure that this would be the final spot for the Christmas icon. Something Nell would assume was an excuse.

He should have taken the photo from the other side, oops. Had he not mentioned the bare tree to the world, his wife likely wouldn't have been making such a deal about it. Until now, Nell had been avoiding it as much as him and Ivan.

“Do you want to do it today?” Wrapping his arms around her waist, he kissed the back of her head. “The wild boy and I are more than happy to let you take over.”

If she wanted to decorate the tree, by herself, it would have been done hours ago.

“Nice try, but this was to be a family activity.” Nell furrowed her brow, huffing. “Why can't you stop fiddling with that damn box for twenty minutes?”

“I love you, Mrs. Cavill.” He knew exactly how to win this battle.

“Not working.”

“Worth a try,” Henry shrugged giving her a kiss on the cheek. Squeezing his arms tighter around his wife, he groaned. Caving to her whim. “I'm going to make us some cocoa, then we can get this tree decorated. Wild boy, help your mum get the decorations out, please.”

“Uh, no.” Shaking her head, Nell escaped his clutches. “I am going to make the cocoa,” gently tapping the tip of Henry's nose she grinned, “You and Ivan can untangle the lights. I have been asking you all week, get to work.”

Laying on the floor by the tree, Kal boofed and yawned. He had heard her asking multiple times over the week, but what could be do about it? Stretching, he stood cautiously to keep his wagging tail from smashing the tree. Nell really hated picking pieces of Christmas tree from his fur. Following her to the kitchen, he hurried when her steps approached the treat cupboard.

“You'd help me, wouldn't you bear?” Spotting her shadow, Nell smiled, tossing him a biscuit. “Honestly, those two are more and more difficult every year. I feel like I'm raising two children sometimes.”

Oh lovely, here she was, in the middle of the kitchen talking to the dog. Whatever, at least Kal would listen to her gripe. Pulling down a mug and two tumbler glasses, Nell set the kettle to boil and then picked up the bottle of Johnnie Walker that had appeared on the counter a few days ago. Likely a gift from someone.

One candy cane hot cocoa and two whiskey and rosemary sours, at the ready. In the other room, Nell could hear Ivan and Henry singing along to I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas. Loudly Ivan belted out the line about the hippo being a vegetarian, Henry swaying back and forth as he laughed and unraveled the lights. To Nell's credit, when she had put away their Christmas decorations the previous year, she had done a much nicer job than Henry.

“Looking good, gentlemen.” Complimenting their work, Nell smiled handing Ivan the cocoa. “Yours is on the tray,” she kissed Henry's cheek. “I decided to make use of the Johnnie Walker.” She winked.

Taking his drink, Henry smiled. “It's your bottle,”

“Mine? Did you buy it?” Nell sat on the floor beside Ivan, working at picking out more decorations.

“No, it came the other day. Some guy dropped it off, did you not read the card?” Henry laughed, joining his family on the floor. Nell shook her head. “Hold on,” He stood back up, groaning a little.

“Mum,” Ivan spoke pulling out another bundle of lights, “when the tree is done, can I watch a movie?”

“You don't want to help dad finish with the computer?” Sorting the other items in the box, Nell sat back on her heels reaching for her drink.

“I guess, but I think I'd like to watch a movie with you. If you have time.”

“For you, wild boy, I have all the time in the world.” Nell leaned over giving him a kiss on the head. Wrinkling his nose, Ivan brushed his hand over his dark curls, resetting them the way he liked them. “Which movie did you want to watch?”

“I don't know, we can find one.” Ivan worked away at the strand of lights, getting them ready to go on the tree, when Henry came back in. His mother wasn't tall enough to read the top, which meant his dad would have to start the lights.

Decorating the tree with his parents, the three of them, felt a little odd. For as long as Ivan could remember there was always a huge production to decorating their tree. This year was quiet, like most things throughout the year. They would be video calling family over Christmas Eve and Christmas Morning, instead of having them there in person. They were supposed to spend Christmas with the Stewart family this year, as sad as Ivan was to miss his trip he understood.

“Here you are,” Henry waved the small card around, crossing the floor to hand it to Nell.

One the outside was a fancy script, containing her name in gold lettering. Opening the small card, the kind one gets with a delivery of flowers, she admired the generic looking winter scene.

“To Nelly & Superman, Merry Xmas. May 2021 be better than whatever dumpster fire this is,” she read out loud, chuckling at the sentiment. “Love always, JPS. It's from Jordan.”

“How lovely, didn't he send one last year as well?”

“He did, but he sent that really nice Riesling.” Nell confirmed. Since Jordan hadn't been able to make it for the wedding, he'd sent the gift instead. “Along with the Ardbeg, for our wedding present.”

Henry nodded, he remembered drinking both vividly. Although he didn't get much of the Ardbeg, because Nell had deemed it off limits to anybody who wasn't her. Past and present gifts sorted and settled, Henry stood up with the first string of lights in hand. “I think it's time we get these on, what about you?”

“About time.” Sticking out her tongue, Nell pulled out the tinsel and a box of ornaments. “Gosh, Cavill, you have been taking forever.”

“Can't rush perfection, my darling.” Henry smirked, attaching the first string of soft white lights to the stout tree in the corner.

“Is that why we took so long?” Ivan teased helping his mother carefully lift ornaments from boxes.

“Of course.” Henry nodded, excusing his procrastination.  “You know, I do love this tree.”

“It is a lovely tree. It's the perfect size.” Nell agreed with her husband. “I'm glad that we didn't go with a monstrous tree this year.”

Henry and Ivan had a habit of going for the biggest tree in the lot. This year, Nell had put her foot down, demanding that they pick something reasonable.

“I thought you liked a big, thick one.” Snorting, Henry paused to watch Nell's reaction.

“You, stop.” She wagged her finger at him. “Wild boy, can you go over to that blue storage bin and get the crystal star, please?”

The tree topper had been a gift from Henry's parents, the first year she and Henry had “unofficially” lived together. Nell had used it every year since, upon Henry's insistence that she kept it. Their first Christmas married, last year, his mother had wanted to gift them a new one. Politely Nell had declined, saying that she loved the one they had. Although, she was more than happy to accept the matching ornament set that went with it, as a late Wedding present.

“I love this star,” Taking the carefully wrapped box from Ivan; Nell placed it safely out of the way of Kal and Cavills.

“Lights are on.” Henry happily announced, clapping his hands together. “What's next?”

“Tinsel and bows.” Ivan sprung up with a card of tinsel, waving it wildly at his father. “Can I help?”

“What if I put on the tinsel, while you tie on the bows?”

“Deal.” Ivan nodded grabbing the gold and silver bows that Nell had made. They would soon be in need of some new bows. “Mum, momma, mum.” he bounced, “Want to help?”

“Sure, you take the gold and I will take the silver?” Standing to join Ivan and Henry at the tree. Nell took the card of silver bows, carefully tying them on to the boughs of the tree.

Over the next half hour or so, their tree began to come to life. The soft colours adorning the vibrant green really stood out in the otherwise neutral room. Laughing and teasing one another, Henry grabbed Ivan around the waist, spinning him – a safe distance from the tree – while Kal danced around them barking excitedly. Nell watched them with joyful delight, after the year they had endured it was nice to see her husband and son still keeping their happiness.

[gettin-bi-bi-bi]

I been with my partner for about 15 months. Do you have any advice on gift giving like how do you not overly give gifts. Like for their Xmas I did a skateboard. Then for our 1 year I did a scrapbook. For their birthday i wanted to get a limited edition skateboard for them. But how do I not go overboard so each year they don't crazily expect. P.s. they don't expect gifts but I'd feel bad for not doing something.

I’m not sure if the kind of advice I’m tempted to give here is any helpful to you. So I’m just gonna tell you how my boyfriend and I “handle” gifts and you’ll either like that approach or not.

Basically the assumption between him an me is that we do not buy birthday or christmas or anniversary gifts for each other. Period. I do never expect to get anything from him and vice versa. We do sometimes gift each other things throughout the year just when we come across something and it’s like “hey, this is perfect for my partner”. And when a birthday or christmas is close then we might “save” that gift for the occassion but honestly, most of the time we just have a card, some flowers, maybe a little something (like a book) and that’s it. Or we diy something. But there is never any expectation that a gift has to have a certain monetary value. Most of the time the “saw this little thing, thought of you” gifts are a million times more personal and exciting than “here’s this expensive thing I bought for you because capitalism”.

Which doesn’t mean we don’t sometimes also buy expensive things, like this year he went a bit ~sugar daddy~ and bought me an expensive thing that I always dreamed of having (and that just happens to fall on my birthday but wasn’t intended as a birthday gift) but it’s never with the itention of finding something “better” than the year before and “out-doing” each other.

And from what you say about your partner I would assume they also don’t expect you to spend a shitload of money on them. Focus on finding something that’s personal, spend time with them. That’s what matters.

And if this whole topic is such a big source of anxiety for you then just talk to them about it and say that you struggle to find a balance here.

Maddie

[boymeetsweevil]

hi! i asked for a continuation of sleeping bags like weeks ago but tbh i don't care what you write i just need more of their differences and the comfort they give each other it;s so sweet i'm fucking crying, i'm praying for a second part

I’m sorry this took so long! I’ve been getting wrapped up with other non-tumblr things. It’s not a full blown sequel but maybe one day there could be 😰 hope this is okay for now:

After the cabin, Hob starts showing up everywhere

At OCs work studyjob

Her reserved corner of the library (with a million snacks and some energy shots for the all nighters—though he is trying to discourage her from doing those)

Her shitty off campus dorm (with packages from Pottery Barn Kids because he’s decided if he’s going to start inviting himself over, things should be more comfortable and he really can’t live without a portable kettle)

OCs reluctant at first because her goal is still to be number one in all her classes and steal the spot from Hob but eventually she just starts putting him to work

Sending him to the wholesale store to buy flash cards and highlighters in bulk (he comes back with that and also a box of 130 frozen mini quiche because “there was a lady with a sample and the box was so big :0 also I got a membership because the lady—”). She never sends him to Costco by himself again.

Letting him quiz her before tests instead of having to just use an app

Talking through her study guides with him since he’s “always right there”

Hob was totally serious about the getting dinner thing, but OC didn’t get that so one day he has to literally ask her

They’ll be eating at the dining commons (much to his rich kid chagrin) and he’ll be like “u know when I said we should get dinner at the cabin this isn’t what I meant”

And OCs like lmao u weren’t kidding? And he’s like why?? Would I be kidding?

Cue OC getting flustered when she realizes he’s serious

They go out to a restaurant that has prices that make her eyes water

He pays for it with his dad’s credit card obvi but she vows to pay the amount back to him

Also when she does end up scoring like .3 points more than him on a class exam, it’s not at all like a sore winner floating situation

OCs ecstatic of course, but so is hobi tbh

The sight of her huge smile when she reads her name at the top of the list for class ranking makes him spin her around in a tight hug

And he’ll use it as an excuse to buy her that expensive water color set she’d been eyeing at the school COOP

Hob tries to buy the things OCs expresses interest in but she will snap at him if he buys it for her and she was already saving up for it herself

Which he gets when she explains how small it makes her feel. He never thought he was “one of those rich people” but he realizes that maybe he still didn’t realize just how he was wielding his money and the effects

But sometimes it takes her too long to save up enough for small pleasures with her meager work study and it pains him to see the disappointment on her face when she comes back from the store and mumbles “apparently they sold out weeks ago”

So sometimes, he’ll secretly pay shop owners a nice “premium” if they keep something on hold. He’s not sure if it’s legal, but they usually do it. Plus it’s good to see her come out triumphantly with her porcelain elephant wrapped in a gift bag so she can send it to her grandma as a present

When XMAS rolls around, he receives a batch of homemade cookies and some sweats with the school logo that are from the COOP. But they’re the expensive ones that have fleece on the inside, the ones the student athletes get for free, and they’re his exact size and he realizes where her most recent paychecks must have gone and he cries in front of her lmao

OC is honestly really glad Hob didn’t write her off after the cabin incident tho. Like she didn’t realize how lonely her student life was until she started having someone force her to go on late night convenience store breaks so she wouldn’t spend the whole Friday locked in the library

Like yeah that’s time she could spend studying but she feels more like her age now

And with Hob insisting that if he’s going to quiz her late into the night he gets to stay over, she finds herself studying in bed (and falling asleep next to him :’( which is honestly way better than never sleeping like before)

[vijara]

I never feel like I'm someone's first option. There's always someone better, more relatable more desireable than me. I appreciate my time by myself. Then there are times I just want a friend and I don't know who to turn to to be that friend. I read what you said about questions and that it might be my own thoughts and insecurities. But why is it that I literally have no one to turn to? My"best friend" asked me today if it was okay if we didn't buy each other presents for xmas...

While I totally understand where you’re coming from and obviously have no way of knowing your situation, I think no matter what it’s still helpful to be a careful observer of your own thoughts and to ask yourself somewhat regularly whether the thoughts that you believe are true.

As an example: I have a lot of friends that I am mutually not buying presents for this year. I’m not upset about that and I don’t take it to be a sign of these friends caring about me less. I don’t have a lot of money and I know my friends don’t either. Also for a lot of people, gift giving is not their love language. For me personally, I really appreciate and value thoughtful, practical gifts – something I really need or will get a lot of use out of – but other than that gift giving is kinda weird and feels really unnecessary for me. I don’t like spending money on things just for the sake of it, I don’t like accumulating random material items that I don’t really need, and it makes me uncomfortable when other people spend money on me. 

Obviously you know your friend and I don’t, but my point is that there are often a lot of reasons for people saying or doing things, and those reasons usually don’t have anything to do with you personally. I wrote a whole post about that (although in a different context) here: [x]

Another reason I would suggest examining your own thoughts and questioning why you believe certain things about yourself is because of the way you worded your question. “There’s always someone better, more relatable more desireable than me”. To me that sounds like a question of self-esteem and of knowing your own worth. I think it would be valuable to ask yourself questions about why you believe those things about yourself. Where do those feelings of not being good enough or desirable enough come from? Is that really true, and if so, is that really fundamental to who you are? Are there qualities about yourself that you can lovingly and gently work with yourself to improve or change? Etc. 

One last thought I had while reading your question: Sometimes the best way to make friends is to be a friend. Don’t overextend yourself, or let others take advantage of your time/energy, but sometimes being the first person to reach out and initiate or go out of your way to offer support to someone is really valuable and goes a long way. You’d be surprised how many people feel lonely but don’t want to reach out to others for fear of being rejected or bothering someone. Take a few chances and see how it pans out. 

TL;DR – what thoughts do you have about yourself and why? where do those thoughts come from? if you feel left out, uncared for, or otherwise upset by someone in your life, are you communicating with them about it and asking them kindly and with an open mind whether they are interpreting the situation in the same way that you are? don’t feel down about yourself and don’t be afraid to reach out to people first. you’re a valuable person to be around and you will find people who see and appreciate that.