#quibbles

1. Why the hell do The Adults do so little to support this kid with his disabilities? I don’t care that his neurodivergence is because he’s a demigod with Phenomenal Cosmic Powers, as an instructor the lack of care and reasonable accommodation as mandated by the Americans with Disabilities Act is grating. I’m sure this is a point that escapes the intended reading audience, in fairness.

2. Whyyyyyyyyyy were they discussing Greek gods qua Greek gods in a Latin class? The Romans plagiarized everything from the Greeks sure… but it still no makey sense. Why Zeus and Poseidon rather than Jupiter and Neptune? Again, I know it’s because Poseidon (not Neptune) is Percy’s dad, but… just make it an Ancient Greek class my dude.

(This is half serious, half just kinda "WTH why not" silliness)

What is emotional kryptonite? The key to making them like you/ bringing their defenses down a notch and letting you in a bit. Usually a trait they respect in other people, either because they lack it themselves or they've know very few people who meet their criteria.

Beelzebub: courtesy and dignity/self love

Amaimon: kindness and temperance

Astaroth: acceptance and peacefulness

Iblis: honor/respect and bravery

Egyn: curiosity and understanding/non judgement

Azazel: courage and humility

Samael/Mephisto: honesty and integrity

Lucifer: admiration and loyalty

I want to point out this isn't the be all end all of emotional vices, just the roots of them. People who have a good sense of integrity (sense of self and your values) tend to be both more honest and more brave, for instance. Similarly those with tempered personalities are typically more likely to be kind, but they can stand firm if need be and are typically loyal. Those with profound dignity (realistic sense of self worth) tend to be more prone to courtesy, but also can be humble. Peaceful people can be non confrontational and pretty accepting, but also have deep and profound respect for things. The list goes on.

Quibbles are the best critter. Especially Green Quibbles

(although, come on “we needed it to fit on a CD” no you don’t it’s 2017. 

show of hands if you’ve bought even one physical round object CD in the past 5 years? I haven’t even owned anything that can play a CD since maybe 2012.)

but they cut a song between Way Down Hadestown II and Chant II, I think it’s called “Is it True” or something and I think that’s a bad gap. I don’t even care about Orpheus’s songs much but it’s like... wait the walls have ears but what are they listening to? and the answer is “a cut song” 

then again I like all the songs they did include on the cast recording and if they cut something I like to make room for “Is It True” I’d probably be cranky. 

It was one of those rain-heavy nights that feel like the world is trying to remember something it forgot. The kind of night that makes everything quieter but somehow louder in your chest.

I had just left my cousin’s wedding. Beautiful, chaotic, loud in all the ways that love celebrations usually are.

But I left before the drinks were opened, skipped the after-party, blamed the rain and a made-up early morning.

Truthfully, I just felt… full.

Of noise, of faces, of questions I didn’t want to ask myself.

So there I was, alone in the car, windshield wipers clicking their rhythm, watching streaks of light stretch and bleed across the wet glass.

And then my phone lit up,

His name.

Three years of silence, and suddenly:

“Mariazanette. Naa man daw ka maramag?”

“catch up ba”

After almost three years of silence.

Three years since the last goodbye,

since the last time I saw his eyes

that knew too much of me—

six years’ worth, to be exact.

I don’t know why I replied.

I don’t know why I agreed to meet.

Maybe because nostalgia sometimes wears the mask of hope.

Or maybe because when someone shaped so much of who you were,

you can’t help but want to see how the sculptor turned out.

We sat in my car, the rain a soft applause on the roof,

the kind that makes you feel wrapped in something ancient and gentle.

It wasn’t awkward. Strangely, it was… comfortable.

Like muscle memory. Like slipping into an old sweatshirt

that no longer fits quite right

but still smells like home.

We laughed a little.

Talked about nothing and everything.

Avoided the question that has followed me like a ghost:

Why did we end?

Was it distance? Neglect? A slow unraveling?

Or were we just not meant to survive the version of love we knew?

I asked about his fiancée. He said they were still engaged.

Two years and still waiting.

I nodded. Didn’t ask why.

I didn’t need to.

There was no confession.

No dramatic declarations.

Just… a stillness.

A shared understanding that

this—this hour in the rain—was the real goodbye.

Not the one we fumbled through three years ago.

This one had weight. This one had grace.

I walked away not knowing where I’m headed.

Still a little unsure about the next chapter of my life.

But I know this:

Whatever road he walks,

I want joy to follow him like the rain followed us that night.

I want his laughter to be loud,

his heart to be safe.

And me?

I’ll carry this night like a pressed flower in a forgotten book,

a quiet reminder that some endings are soft,

and some goodbyes are necessary

to make room for what’s to come.

Fin.

Every time I post about firearms, I get a lot of pushback in the notes about how “there’s no such thing as an assault weapon!” usually accompanied by one or more insults or vulgarities.

You and I and all the people who responded all know what is meant by the term “assault weapon.” Saying there’s no such thing is not a response to the issue of gun control.

You and I and all the people who responded (with plenty of insults and vulgarities)  to my posting the video of Jack Posobiec at CPAC about overthrowing and destroying democracy know what is meant by the term “democracy.” Here’s a hint:

And that’s the way Jack Posobiec is using the term—he wants to overthrow “democracy,” and you can’t overthrow something that doesn’t exist. Attacking me because Jack used what is in your opinion the “wrong word” is not actually a response to what Jack is proposing.

That even sunshine burns if you get too much. So you plant your garden and decorate your own soul, Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers. And you learn that you really can endure…

That you really are strong And you really do have worth…

And you learn and learn…

With every good-bye you learn.

That's how much I miss you, love.