One of my favorite interactions I’ve ever had with my father is when I was watching Brokeback Mountain in the living room, and he was walking through for his smoke break (cause he had to walk through the living room to go outside) and he stops to watch the tv for a moment, and I’m so nervous that I stand up and ramble at him, like, “oh, you know, I’ve never seen it before, I have some time, I might not even finish it…”
“This that gay cowboy movie?”
“…yes.”
And then he nodded and walked away. My dad’s so buff that I often forget he’s just a chill guy
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I was working in the basement at my cutting table down there-- idk if I ever talked about it but I managed to cram a worktable in there and cover it with cutting mats and now I can cut out fabric without hunching, which has done enormous things for my ability to make garments. i can't cut shit out on the floor with my hip like it is, and I'm a size 22, I can't lay my shit out on a kitchen table with the size of pattern pieces I need. Anyway I don't have a kitchen table anymore. So.
Anyway. Cutting table. Fantastic. I have these shitty little jlab earbuds that go over my ears, and they're fine for audiobooks if a bit tinny for music. I mostly use them at the farm whilst doing boring repetitive tasks. I still can't really absorb audiobooks very well but I've done okay at listening to things I've already read. Currently, I'm listening to Douglas Adams. I'm most of the way through So Long And Thanks For All The Fish. It's fine.
Anyway. I opened the little case. I should mention this is my second pair of these fucking things, as I tucked them in my pocket one day on my way to go do tedious things on the farm, and then never saw them again. The same nice compact carrying case that makes it possible to bring them places with me means I fucking lost the thing. argh. So I bought another pair, which is identical except that the charger is even more annoying. O, the inevitable march of technology.
So this, my second pair. I opened the case, standing next to the cutting table in the basement. The table is a lovely workbench from Dude's old workplace. Beautiful butcher-block-style wooden top, angle iron (well, they're like. C-shaped, for strength? Idk, and metal) legs of great sturdiness and adjustable height, with punch-outs to install electrical outlets in the legs, which he did, and which I have plugged in, so I have this fantastic worktable with these outlets. It's really amazing.
Took out one earbud. Hooked it over my ear. Tried to take out the other earbud. The over-ear piece, crucial for my tiny ears so that the things don't just fall out, hooked on my finger, and then flexed, and I flung the fucking thing onto the floor.
Whereupon it vanished totally. My audiobook had already connected, and I got down and crawled around looking for the earbud for a while, listening to Arthur and Fenchurch flying around England having sex. Annoyed, I got up and went back to work, figuring I'd just listen to the audiobook with one ear for a while, and the other one would turn up.
But I finished my task, and got down on the floor again-- I don't like getting on the floor, you know. it's cleaner than it has been in a very long time, but that doesn't mean it's pleasant.
And no sign of the earbud. Got a flashlight, crawled around. Looked inside the two plastic bags of fabric sitting under the table. No joy.
Finally it occurred to me to take my other earbud out, put it aside, and then turn the volume up. But I couldn't hear Martin Freeman's mild dulcet tones (yeah, he does the audiobook reading, it's not bad); he's just too mild, I guess. And anyway I'd lose my place in the book and have to rewind, how annoying.
Ah, I thought, with a sudden brainwave. Music. I should put on some music instead.
I opened my music app. Death metal? Doom sludge? No, hair metal, with the wailing--
No. I thought of something even better. Even better, more piercing, more sure, more consistent.
I put this album on, and turned the volume up as far as it would go, and crawled around on the floor. I could hear it quite distinctly. I put the other earbud on the stairs up to the rest of the house, to get it out of the way, and came back. Yes. Right near where I'd been standing. Not in this plastic bag, no. I moved both plastic bags, and a box. No, not in any of those.
No, the earbud had inserted itself into the back of the c-shaped iron leg of the table, tucked in neatly where it was entirely invisible.
Just as I found it, Dude appeared behind me, bewildered. "What's that noise?" he asked. He had heard the other earbud, on the stairs, and was coming to investigate whether I was being tortured. Looking up at him from the floor in my moment of triumph I probably looked slightly insane, too, brandishing a little gray earbud and cackling fiendishly as I grubbed around on the basement floor.
Behind the cut, I present to you the album that proved to be so perfectly suited for this task, and if you've recently read So Long, and Thanks you'll understand why it's so perfectly apt.
Incidentally as far as I can tell there is no volume one of this set, but as a piper's daughter I can confirm that this is stunningly competent bagpipe music.
(Yes, it was already in my listened-to history. No, not because of the book. I listened to it one night and cried over my dad, if you must know. Hugh there was one year younger than my father, and died a year earlier than him. And played the bagpipes a lot better, but my dad wasn't really a competitions kind of guy.)
Anyhow.
Now I have both earbuds and know what to do if I lose one again. You're welcome.
(For the record, when I went back and decided to resume listening to the album, only nineteen seconds of the first track had elapsed, that's how perfect it was for helping me search.)
I remember one year in middle school or grade school I went on a hike with my girls scout troupe and we stopped at a rest stop bathroom on the trail in woods where ladybugs were swarming. There were so many of them gathered inside the tiny room, huddled together against the creeping cool in the last dregs of summer. More than I had ever seen in one place before. In some places they covered whole surfaces with a buzzing fluttering mass of tiny red and black bugs
Les différentes réaction face a la canicule (+40° C toute la semaine à Paris)
Moi : Mais qui a décidé de faire un barbecue avec la planète ??
Une amie : Maintenant je sais ce que c'est que d'être une merguez
Frere 1 : Mon ventilateur c'est un sèche cheveux il me souffle que de l'air chaud
frère 2 : Quand je suis sorti j'ai eu l'impression d'être dans un air fryer, c'est trop grave
Moi again : Hmmm, on a un bidon vide sur le balcon.... On pourrait le remplir de glaçons et comme ça on prend un bain bien frais ! (On a une baignoire)
Frère 1 again : Je vais mettre mes draps et mes vêtements dans le frigo je pense
Un collègue : On devrait avoir une Prime Canicule, c'est pas normal de nous faire travailler dans ces conditions
Ma boss : *après que je l'ai arrosé d'eau* T'es ma sauveuse, j'ai cru que j'allais mourir, merci beaucoup, j'en peux plus de cette chaleur je vais pas survivre aujourd'hui (elle nous a lâché 1h plus tôt que prévu en nous hurlant de rentrer chez nous au frais)
Collègue maitre nageur : Mais on peut pas aller a la piscine quand il fait froid, on peut pas aller a la piscine quand il fait chaud, quand est ce qu'on peut aller à la piscine en fait ???? LAISSEZ MOI ALLER DANS MON HABITAT NATUREL !!!
Ma mere : *en allant à une réunion importante* J'aurais du rester dans ma chambre, il fait frais la bas au moins, je sais pas pourquoi je suis venue.
Collègue : Je vais retourner dans [ecole dans laquelle on travaillait le mois dernier] juste parce qu'ils ont la clim là bas.
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Sometimes in my head I think about how good Sun-Spider would be if she wasn’t a one-off character was defined by her disability. Don’t get me wrong I love her and I think reason can be made for disability being such a large part of her identity, especially if there were more issues to flesh out her experiences as a disabled teen—god knows disability was my personality when I was diagnosed. While it’s taken a backseat, it still arguably is because of how I’m perceived, and I think that’s SUCH a theme to be discussing. I only get crumbs of that from abled writers working on Daredevil, when they don’t forget he’s blind.
But anyway, I REALLY fucking hope if she ever got picked up (unlikely) that an author WITH EDS writes her. Personally I think it’s untapped potential for her crush to have fucking pollen powers or whatever. Superhero who could have MCAS as an EDS complication vs her crush that literally gives her allergic reactions. This could be sapphic Romy for disabled teens if Marvel could write well
(ALSO I’M NOT CRITIQUING HER AS AN OC. I’m wary of how marvel writes disability rep)
A headcanon I had to explain Lor's voice changing over the course of the show is that the rough-and-tumble voice she started out with was her intentionally putting on a lower vocal tone to sound intentionally more rough and tough.
As Lor became more sensitive, more considerate, and more in touch with her feminine side over the course of the show, she gradually stopped lowering her voice and the lighter, higher tone that she has in later episodes is actually her natural voice.
And yes, when I have the time, I do wanna write at least one fanfic exploring this idea.
This headcanon of mine was based off of me doing the exact same thing when I was a preteen. Though since I'm male, me putting on a voice facade was due to me wanting to sound more like a man, since I was one of the last among my friends for my voice to drop.
I wasn't the last one though, so yay to that.
Though if I could go back and give advice to my younger self, I'd tell him not to be so insecure and superficial about his vocal chords.
Life is so funny because basically my hyperfixation on Stranger Things got me interested in learning how to play D&D which partially led to me getting closer to one of my old friends who used to play which led to us moving states to a major city two years ago where I fortunately found a private library job (and made a new lifelong best friend there) but was struggling to find public library work bc of all the competition but then eventually after over a year I got offered the perfect position at a massive regional library in a great location for much better pay and benefits and then five months later (last week) my boss casually told me that one of the major reasons she hired me was because I mentioned D&D in the interview and they hadn’t had an employee who knew how to run a teen D&D program for so long.
So basically my Stranger Things hyperfixation changed the course of my life?? Like HUH 😭
