#tell about it

[ashtrayfloors]

Last week started out pretty well. I got a lot of work (paid day-job stuff) done; took my kids to the library for therapy dog reading time, took them to the park to birdwatch (we saw so many woodpeckers, both downy and red-bellied). I took a lot of walks and wrote a lot and read a lot.

C. and I had a sweet discussion about relationships. He asked me if he could have a girlfriend and I said that one day, when he’s older, and he meets a girl he’s into who’s into him, he can have a girlfriend. Then I said that he’s a long way off from dating, though, and that in the meantime he just needed to make friends with people, girls and boys. He said “okay,” paused, then said: “Does that mean I can have a girlfriend and a boyfriend someday?!” I said: “If you want to, then absolutely.” But internally I was screaming: “Oh my god, he’s gonna be bi and poly!!!!” Obviously I know that kids say and do all kinds of things that have no bearing on their identity or life, but it still made me smile. Later on that day, he said he wanted Spider-Man to be his boyfriend someday, which was also super cute. (And of course made me think of both the Bi-Der Man meme, and Andrew Garfield saying he’d wanted to play Spider-Man/Peter Parker as bi.)

There was one day when C. seemed like maybe he was coming down with something, and I got a little worried, but then he seemed fine, so I thought it was just a fluke.

Friday morning, I woke up feeling good. I thought P. and I would finally be able to fuck that night (we hadn’t had sex in a week and a half; first he had a backache, then I had some genital irritation which I did not want to make worse). But then C. was acting really weird, like saying he needed a nap after only being awake for two hours, and his eyes looked really glassy, and his forehead felt warm. I checked his temperature, and sure enough, it was slightly elevated. He only got worse from there.

Well, whatever he had has since made its way through the everyone in the house. It’s not CoViD. We’ve taken multiple CoViD tests over the course of the past four days, and all of them have been negative. I know antigen tests aren’t as reliable as PCR tests, but last April when we did have CoViD, the tests showed positive as soon as we were symptomatic. Plus, with CoViD I had insane body aches, fatigue, and brain fog, and have had none of that with this virus. (Well, not much. There’s always a little fatigue with any virus, but this is nothing compared to CoViD fatigue.) But we’re treating it basically the same way, anyway. Quarantining, resting as much as possible, megadosing on vitamins.

The first few days after we started coming down with it, P. and I felt pretty good, and we said: “Oh, maybe we got really mild cases!” I guess we jinxed it, because as of Monday evening, it got a lot worse for both of us. Still not the sickest I’ve ever been, but it’s no fun.

Worst parts of the past five days:

I had to pass on a really well-paying freelance gig, because the deadline was the end of this week, and I knew I’d be too sick to do it well, and taking care of sick kiddos on top of it so I wouldn’t have the time.

Obviously, P. and I have not gotten to have sex. It’s been over two weeks now! I know in the grand scheme of things that’s not a long time, but for us, it kinda is.

The being sick itself. All the phlegm and snot, oh my fucking god. It is endless.

My nose is chapped! My lips are chapped!

Not being able to keep my house clean/picked up. I’m not a clean or neat freak, but in recent months I’ve realized I do better if we keep up a baseline of organization and cleanliness, and we’ve been staying pretty on top of it. But this week, what with being sick, we’ve done dishes and laundry as needed, plus general wiping down of surfaces with disinfectant, and everything else has fallen by the wayside.

I am so fucking tired. Not like, fatigue-tired, but like, I haven’t been sleeping well despite my best intentions. Because either the kids keep me up half the night so I can tend to their ailments, or I just can’t sleep because I’m either blowing my nose or spitting out phlegm every two seconds. And last night was the full moon, and I can never sleep when it’s a full moon, sick or no.

I started feeling bad about my Career and my Life and Myself, thinking: “Ugh, I’m a failure at everything and I’m old and hideous and everything is terrible now and is gonna be terrible forever.” Fortunately, I nipped it in the bud quickly, remembering that I always get depressed about myself/my life when I’m sick, and that it is not the right time to be taking stock of anything.

Best parts of the past five days:

On Sunday, when I still thought this might be a mild cold, I was able to attend the Four Queens online writing workshop. I wrote some stuff, and got lots of great ideas for current and future projects. And I just really liked what Mathias had to say about attention and astonishment.

I’ve been taking Mathias’ words to heart. Even as I’ve been sick, I’ve been taking time every day to step outside or at least look outside, or even look at something inside, and pay deep attention and feel astonished, and that’s led to even more lists and ideas and scraps; more mulch for future writings.

I’ve been spending as much of my time as possible reading books or watching videos and films. And basically everything I’ve been watching and reading has been by and/or about queer and trans folks. Books I’ve read: A Minor Chorus by Billy-Ray Belcourt, Feral City by Jeremiah Moss, and IRL by Tommy Pico. Things I’ve watched: The film of Abigail Thorn’s play The Prince, Chris McKim’s documentary Wojnarowicz: Fuck You Faggot Fucker, and Caelan Conrad and Jessie Gender’s newest video essays on YouTube. I highly recommend all of it.

I’ve been drinking a lot of tea. I’ve been mostly foregoing cold medicine and having a hot toddy every evening instead. When I have tried the cold meds they just haven’t helped very much, or not enough anyway, and I find that a good hot toddy helps just as much. Plus, hot toddies taste better and are more enjoyable than cold meds. And there’s no way I’m gonna take cold meds and drink at the same time. Twenty years ago, back when I used to take severe liver damage may occur as less of a warning, more of a challenge? Sure, I mixed meds and booze. But back then I simultaneously still hoped to/thought I would die young, and also kinda thought I was fuckin’ invincible. Now I’m (comparatively) old and would like to live a lot longer, thank you, so I’m not going to risk it.

Today I made myself ramen for lunch—just instant ramen, but I tried this technique I learned that makes it taste better, and also added chopped scallions, a splash of soy sauce and a splash of chili oil, and I topped it with a fried egg. Then I took a long, hot aromatherapy bubble bath. Then I drank tonight’s hot toddy, and cooked dinner while listening to my favorite radio station. Every year on International Women’s Day they play only women/women-fronted bands and artists all day. The DJ tonight did a whole block (two songs each) of Alanis Morissette followed by Garbage followed by Ani DiFranco, and it was like, holy flashback to middle school thru early college, Batman! (I mean that in the best possible sense.) Then we changed the sheets on all the beds, and now I’m lying in bed, finishing this entry, and feeling better than I’ve felt since Monday. I’m cautiously optimistic that I’m actually on the mend.

Other things: 

Saturn has moved into Pisces, and it’s intense.

I have a wee little crush on someone. They are currently On The Road, and I’ve been looking up photos of places they’re currently in. I realized that this is actually fairly common for me. Be it friend, family, crush, lover, acquaintance even…if I am thinking of someone who lives away from me, and/or is traveling, I look up photographs of where they currently are. It’s sort of a way to see what they’re seeing, maybe in that way sort of feel what they’re feeling. And it’s sort of the opposite of a postcard. A postcard is sending someone a piece of where you are, saying wish you were here. This thing I do is finding a piece of where someone I care for is, thinking wish I was there.

I was thinking about K. the other day. Sent her a message to say I think of her often, and I hope she’s well. She has not responded, and I’m not surprised nor do I blame her. For three years, she tried so so hard to be close with me, and I really didn’t let her in. I wanted to, but I was also afraid, and there were several other factors. And she eventually gave up. And, as I said, I don’t blame her. I send her messages a few times a year, to let her know I still think of her. I wish she’d respond, but at this point in my life I’d rather have people know I care even if they don’t reciprocate.

We’re hunkering down for a winter storm that’s due within the next couple days. I want it to be spring, but despite the returning birds and the daffodil shoots, it’s still officially winter for the next two weeks.

[whiteshipnightjar]

Zoozve, my beloved

[mamatater]

The spouse is getting curious about tumblr

[beaft]

my mum forbade me to say anything to my dad about the top surgery thing, and it's just hit me how funny it would be if i got it done and didn't tell him and just waited for him to notice. i mean, what's he gonna say? "didn't you used to have tits?"

[myclericalromance]

i went to a tiny counterserve diner once and accidentally poured sugar instead of salt all over my hashbrowns and was eating them sadly anyways. the waitress took them away and started making me another one and I tried to protest, but she just snorted and said "we're not catholic here". now every time i'm doing something painful out of obligation i think about how that is not repenting, this body is not a catholic establishment, there is no nobility in suffering.

[marypsue]

Keep seeing that post where OP starts like 'Thinking about...grieving the undead' and then adds on about like. Real life situations where people have not died but have left your life and you would have reason to grieve them.

All respect, that's an important concept, but that is not what I am thinking about when I read 'grieving the undead'.

[eliias-bouchard]

making up oc lore: fuck yes a little guy just for me

writing down oc lore: what the fuck

[badolmen]

People against piracy fail to realize that no, I can’t just ‘buy it.’ They stopped making DVDs and Blu-Rays. They’re barely offering digital copies for download. I am not spending money I could use for food or bills to pay for a subscription service just so I can always have access to a beloved piece of media. Especially not when the service will remove media on a whim without concern for how the loss of access to that piece will make its artistic conservation nigh impossible.

For example, I recently learned that Disney+ had an original film called Crater. It’s scifi, family friendly, and seems cool - I would love to buy it as a holiday gift for my little brother! But: it’s exclusive to D+ and THEY REMOVED IT LITERALLY MONTHS AFTER ITS RELEASE.

The ONLY way I can directly access this film is through piracy. The ONLY available ‘copies’ of this film are hosted on piracy websites. Disney will NEVER release it in theaters, or as something to buy, and it may NEVER return to the streaming service. It will be LOST because we aren’t allowed to purchase it for personal viewing. If I can’t pay to own it, I won’t pay for the privilege of losing it when corporate decides to put it in a vault.

So yes, I’m going to pirate and support piracy.

[max1461]

Disgust has absolutely no ethical weight. If you are basing your ethical positions on the emotion of disgust you should stop, it is entirely unjustified and leads to a huge amount of harm.

[stil-lindigo]

hobie motherfuckin' brown!!!!!!

[demadogs]

nothing can break the bond between a friend who loves spoilers and a friend who just watched an amazing show and needs to tell someone the entire plot from start to finish

[akashicrecord]

no offense but if your friend is trying out a new hobby be fucking nice to them

[foundfamilywhump]

the question, you see, is not ‘is it too ooc for this character to cry’ but rather ‘what circumstances would push this character to cry’

this is the whump wisdom, go forth and make that character cry

[cabbagegunk]

I personally think that all whale sharks should be put on Mickey’s Dick Smasher.

WHAT!!!! they are such gentile creatures why would you say thst…

[elodieunderglass]

changes and trends in horror-genre films are linked to the anxieties of the culture in its time and place. Vampires are the manifestation of grappling with sexuality; aliens, of foreign influence. Horror from the Cold War is about apathy and annihilation; classic Japanese horror is characterised by “nature’s revenge”; psychological horror plays with anxieties that absorbed its audience, like pregnancy/abortion, mental illness, femininity. Some horror presses on the bruise of being trapped in a situation with upsetting tasks to complete, especially ones that compromise you as a person - reflecting the horrors and anxieties of capitalism etc etc etc. Cosmic horror is slightly out of fashion because our culture is more comfortable with, even wistful for, “the unknown.” Monster horror now has to be aware of itself, as a contingent of people now live in the freedom and comfort of saying “I would willingly, gladly, even preferentially fuck that monster.” But I don’t know much about films or genres: that ground has been covered by cleverer people.

I don’t actually like horror or movies. What interests me at the moment is how horror of the 2020s has an element of perception and paying attention.

Multiple movies in one year discussed monsters that killed you if you perceived them. There are monsters you can’t look at; monsters that kill you instantly if you get their attention. Monsters where you have to be silent, look down, hold still: pray that they pass over you. M Zombies have changed from a hand-waved virus that covers extras in splashy gore, to insidious spores. A disaster film is called Don’t Look Up, a horror film is called Nope. Even trashy nun horror sets up strange premises of keeping your eyes fixed on something as the devil GETS you.

No idea if this is anything. (I haven’t seen any of these things because, unfortunately, I hate them.) Someone who understands better than me could say something clever here, and I hope they do.

But the thing I’m thinking about is what this will look like to the future, as the Victorian sex vampires and Cold War anxieties look to us. I think they’ll have a little sympathy, but they probably won’t. You poor little prey animals, the kids will say, you were awfully afraid of facing up to things, weren’t you?

[ato-dato]

One mans barber can be another mans nemesis.