you are not a bond girl.

They spoke in American accents and they had all been taught a sort of eschatology in which they would one day return with their parents to Hollywood or New York. But they belonged to the rain forest and to the temple. And the geometry of the latter — its steps underfoot or its rise overhead, depending on where they grew up — was so primal to them that any talk of disassembly or reassembly struck them as abstract, almost paradoxical.

AHHHH OMG HI HI HI HOW’RE YOUUU??

So yeah, hi -- I’m trying out being back here. I don’t know if anyone I knew/liked/loved is still following me and active (and I can’t bring myself to look, in case it’s all just pornbots or something). If so: hello hi wow long time, no see. In the period since I was last active I’ve gained three (!) Masters degrees and am now en route to my PhD so that’s a ~thing~ I guess. As a result of said PhDness I’m basically now even more boring than before, and watch little to no television. I miss it, though!! I miss long screams about Peggy Olson and debating The Newsroom’s Don Quixote parallels AT LENGTH and I miss writing Selena/Kent porn a LOT. But the new series of GoT seemed as good a time as any to trial a return, mainly bc I have A LOT OF FEELINGS.

— But I saw him. We saw each other. We found each other in the cosmos, and that was wonderful.

The true story of Carl Sagan and Ann Druyan, whose love story began with an interstellar mix-tape to last a million millennia...