kat

good omens text post meme, part 4 (part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

But here’s the thing

I forgot to account for the fact that my mom is a huge nature nerd

So I came home from school this afternoon to my mom with a list of different trees and bird names that she thinks I should name myself

Here are some highlights:

Devil’s walking stick

Titmouse

Cardinal (I’m not apposed to this one)

Jay

Peregrine

Pawpaw

Pileated woodpecker

Birch

Maple

Cypress (legit considering this one)

Dogwood

She legitimately thinks these are good names and she also came to the realization that a) she should’ve given all her kids gender-neutral names. She wishes she’d given in to her inner hippie and named us things like blue, moon, river, ocean, and sky.

and B) she wants to now give all of her kids tree/bird nicknames. She followed my sister around for an hour asking if she wanted to be named oak or spruce.

jj: lmao what

Lemon man: what???? huh?????? u triggered?????????

jj: whatever you say lemon man

lemon man:

jj: lmao what

Lemon man: what???? huh?????? u triggered?????????

jj: whatever you say lemon man

lemon man:

…I’m somewhere between  14. I’ve been a 16 and I have been killing myself over the years to look like these women that aren’t even freakin real…

Happy anniversary Anne Lister and Ann Walker! They were celebrating this day in 1835 for the first time with some plum pudding. I am so grateful for them, I’m grateful for knowing their story and recognizing how much they were important to the history.

We wouldn’t talk. They’d tell us to do something and we’d just sit there quietly and do it, until eventually they just said “hey, guys, it’s okay to chat while you work!” and then everybody would start talking.

One teacher described it as creepy.

And I just remember thinking, what the fuck did they expect to happen? We’d all been taught from the age of four or five onwards that talking in class was bad. That if we did it, we’d be told off, or punished, or in some instances maybe the entire class would be punished along with us, just to make sure we really got the idea. It was a whole thing.

But now, because we were sixth-formers and therefore ‘grown ups’, we were suddenly expected to flip a switch and be able to talk as much as we liked? The whole reason we were in sixth-form was because we had worked hard, done well at school, and generally followed the rules— but still the teachers couldn’t understand why we didn’t just talk to each other.

Now I’m at uni, and seminar tutors are having a similar problem. People will talk in seminars, but a lot of them will insist on raising their hands and waiting to be called upon first. “Don’t put your hands up, just shout at me!” the guy keeps saying. But they keep doing it anyway.