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It's the Royal Academy of Art Young Artist's Summer Show. One of my favourite exhibitions of the year. Like. Not only are the older kids insanely talented, the younger ones' artist statements will just punch you right in the face.
I’m on day two of a really aggressive migraine and I’ve noticed two symptoms that I hadn’t noticed before.
1.) Before the worst of the migraine hit, I started peeing an insane amount. Like you know right after you break the seal during a night of drinking heavily? Where you can feel your bladder refilling even as you finish peeing? And you pee like five times in a row within an hour? It was that kind of peeing.
2.) One of my eyes is seeing the world in cooler tones while the other is seeing warmer tones. I close one eye and it’s like a cool-toned filter has been applied, like the baseball scene in Twilight (not that intense but you get it), while the other eye is slightly pink-toned. What the fuck?
Anyway I’ve taken way more medicine than I should and I’m still suffering, so pray for me I guess.
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I'm having such a fun time writing this version of the book, because I'm doing three separate POVs. It's so much more interesting than the single POV I used in the first version.
Getting to explore the inner thoughts of the two main supporting characters is fleshing out the emotional arc of this story in a much more satisfactory way.
Look at this goober who doesn't even know he's in love yet:
Besides, Lucas didn’t date. He always told his friends he wanted to avoid complications, but in reality, he just hadn’t met anyone he thought was worth the effort. All of the girls at St. Barnabas were boring. Pretty, angular, and predictable- like origami copies of each other.
There was one person he found interesting. Not that he knew anything about her. They’d had a few classes together, and he always found his eyes drifting in her direction. She’d never given him a second glance. He was pretty sure she didn’t even know his name, but he knew hers.
Alleluia. Such a strange name. It suited her, though, with her deep-set dark eyes and her hair floating like a curly halo around her face. She wasn’t pretty or predictable- she was striking. He remembered being shocked by her deep, musical voice when she’d read Helena’s part in A Midsummer Night’s Dream last year.
It wasn’t a crush. He didn’t think so, at least. It was more of a… strong interest. He was fascinated by the way this girl acknowledged nothing and no one, the way she flowed from class to class as if held in a gravity all her own. He’d asked around about her a few times, and no one seemed to know anything. Well, that wasn’t true. Emory had said she was an orphan, and Maddie said she lived with a couple of weird aunts who ran a crystal shop in Cassadaga. Maddie had gone to their little blue house in middle school for some sort of group assignment, and she was pretty sure the place was haunted.
If that was supposed to put him off, it didn’t work.
Maybe he was drawn to the way she abstained from all of the unspoken rules. He wished he could do that. Maybe he’d just never before met anyone as aloof as he tried to be. Could he even say he’d met her? Barely. She probably couldn’t pick him out of a lineup.
He was missing one of his only classes with her right now, in fact. Third period chemistry. Maybe it was this thought that compelled him, finally, out of the car. Or maybe it wasn’t. But something shook him out of his inertia and sent him walking at a fast clip toward the science building.
Henry had his first Indian buffet experience today. Naturally he ordered some chicken nugs, but he also tried a few things, including this spicy chili lol. He all about trying spicy stuff lately.
A (young, male) client of mine was complaining about a certain type of customer he has to deal with a lot, an "older woman who is just mad at the world because no one finds her attractive anymore." I rankled at this a little but didn't show it, opting to just let him vent for a while. He went on and on about this type of woman who has a chip on her shoulder so she makes life harder for everyone, bitching about insignificant stuff and taking out her frustrations on low wage workers. I was like, "yeah, I can see that." I was picturing like a 65+ "Karen" type of white woman. We've all met a few of those. Then he said, "totally. Like the kind of woman who hit 42 and no one wanted to fuck her anymore, so now she hates the world."
And I was like hang on...42? FORTY-TWO years of age is what we're going with? "No one wanted to fuck her anymore??" Brother, have you seen some of the women in their forties lately? Scorchingly hot Hollywood stars in their forties. Even fifties!
What an absolutely insane take. Not to mention that most middle aged women are angry not because no one wants to fuck them, but because their hormones are insane and no one seems to care. And because they've run out of people-pleasing energy.
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Guys I was very brave last week and auditioned for well known LGBTQ choir here in Nashville. They do all kinds of cool shit like performing at the symphony and singing background on albums and doing stuff for Pride. I felt drawn to it for years but I was always too scared to audition.
Well I did it and GUESS WHAT.
Ahhhhh! I’m so excited! And so proud of myself! And mostly I’m just stoked to make new friends and do something fun. Singing is so good for my nervous system and singing regularly in a big group of queer folks is some of the best medicine I can imagine. I can’t wait.
Y’all, I bought some of this salt the other day and it straight up makes everything sandy. Like I thought I had dirt or sand on my food two or three times this week before I realized it had to be the salt. Looked it up and lo and behold! Lots of people with similar complaints. I guess it has “natural unrefined minerals” including SILICA which is SAND. How is anyone ok with this? I’m eating a gritty waffle right now and processing my refund.
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origamiaround
vaporwave
stormborns
dailybridgerton
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
germansingergirl
yousharknotpass
theartofmadeline
