Sep. 7th, 2017

… you’d be amazed how many notes I’m still getting on that extremely time-limited graphic. including an anon hate message like just now saying that no one would miss me while I was gone. Bitch that was last week are you illiter– oh, well, probably. LOL. 

It’s really boring and annoying at this point, I must admit, but. Hey. It could be worse. People are out there getting arrested and shit. I made a rebloggable image with links for nebulous consciousness-raising purposes. Whoop de fuckin’ shit. 

innnnn otherrr newwssss I have got to pry myself away from Twitter, I’m like, obsessed with making myself upset by reading about the hurricane and the fires, oh my god, it’s the end times. I texted Middle-Little and we agreed that tonight is a night to listen to reggaeton and drink rum in loving solidarity with Puerto Rico, which neither of us has ever visited but Mom did and loved it (the tourism joints there are very sweet to middle-aged Spanish-fluent ladies with some disposable income, unsurprisingly). I know nothing, but I do know Don Omar has written some bangers, so. Levantale! [for serious though. oh my god. no, I’m not linking to any news sites. I had no idea where Barbuda was before today but I have shed real tears for you, I am so sorry, holy shit.]

Big Sister’s old neighborhood in Savannah is starting voluntary evacuation, expecting Irma to make landfall and cause more flooding. She left a note when she moved out for the new owners, that there are plywood covers for all the windows up in the attic; she hadn’t expected they’d need them at all, let alone so soon. Now she lives up by the Mason Dixon line and her daughter came home from her first day of kindergarten astonished that the girls here don’t wear hair bows the size of their heads, which was the fashion down in Georgia.

I have officially written and discarded 5,000 words on Lost Kings since the last thing I posted, which I was feeling bad about until I realized that’s a fuckton of words, I’ve been super productive even if it’s all outtakes, and spinning one’s wheels is a sign that you’ll get it right eventually right??? I’m 3800 words into the scene I think will finally stick.

I wore a castoff of Middle-Little’s today, a cardigan our mother knit her. It’s sort of a shapeless slouchy shrug but it’s super comfy. It’s teal and brown stripes with ivory edges and wooden buttons and I’m very fond of it already; I think it’s bamboo rayon.  It’s extremely unflattering but I have a hashtag-aesthetic that allows for that: my aesthetic is that I wear what I have, and somehow never manage to have things that are what I really want, and so I have literally never looked how I want to look, but at least mostly I’m comfortable, so there. 
via replied to your post “¦ you’d be amazed how many notes I’m still getting on that extremely…”

I can’t remember how but I know its possible to turn off notifications on only one post

I think it’s a thing in xkit. That wouldn’t stop the anon asks though. I could turn anon off, but it hasn’t been bad enough for me to bother. Mostly it’s just really funny. Like, do I start with how the post in question is clearly time-sensitive and the time is past? I don’t even need to address anyone being wrong or not. It’s just so amazing. 

I’m generally getting off easy, I know that. 



So uh… here’s a thing I made


I was just going through my wallet organizing it. I don’t like the little cigarette case I’m using as a wallet, really, but after I lost my good one, I sort of feel like i can’t have nice things. This is small and i won’t lose it, so. 

But then I was thinking about when I lost my wallet, and it got stolen instantly- I dropped it, missed it immediately, looked for it, and then my bank texted me about unauthorized use of my card. It was literally like, three minutes. Guy saw it fall, grabbed it, ran off with it. Straight to the liquor store. 

And the clerk there remembered him, and was like, yeah I thought it was weird he had a credit card. The guy was a regular named Miguel. 

I wasn’t really that mad at the clerk for going ahead with the sale, but I was sort of– because seriously, a guy you see daily who pays cash in small amounts and you know his name is Miguel turns up with a credit card with a white bitch’s name on it?

Lest you think, how would he know that’s a white bitch’s name, it’s on no lower authority than Yeezy himself: 

You know the demo, ya boy act wild
You ain’t get the memo, Yeezy’s back in style
Now when Rome go Gidget the other got Bridget
What’s more tripped out though is they sisters
Nah, you ain’t listen, they black, they sisters
They momma, named them after white bitches

(My government name is the last one he mentions up there.)

So that’s why I interrupted my reggaeton binge to listen to The Joy. Thanks, Kanye, that’s something I’ll always have. 



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This is absolutely one reason why Dr Glass was so troubled by the mint that the previous householders let out of the pot, so that we inherited a garden infested with it. Well, there are a few reasons why.

The first is that Dr Glass’s personality does not allow for incursions of Disallowed Plants where he has told them not to go, and he explicitly told the wild mint that its presence in the grassy area was Formally Interdicted, so its disobedience struck to the very core of his character. The second is that the mint simply did not recognize his claim to dominance.

The third is that the ducks, in their official capacity of garden restorers, were actually incredibly good at weeding, and restored the entire garden from a neglected shitty-lawn shithole, to a decent and productive cottage garden dominated by thriving herbs. “Mint is an herb,” they said generously, leaving it alone for us. “EAT IT,” Dr Glass would say, and they would say “You said not to eat the herbs. You said to trim the lawn and eat the weeds. I think you’ll find mint is an herb, sir.”

And he’d get distracted by their pronunciation and go all Eddie Izzard, as he does, like

And they’d say “Elodie said not to pronounce the H, because ‘herb’ is a loan word from French, and in French you don’t pronounce the H.” And then he would feel Oppressed, and eventually we had a mint saga and Mint Discourse.

Ducks are also fantastic gardeners for Mediterranean shrubby herbs - the rosemary misses them, and the thyme has gone to shit, and the lavender is sad. But it was also a little off-putting how they used to rummage in the fragrant herbs and then run towards you, pre-seasoned, and smelling good enough to just pop in the oven.

Anyway. In tagging me in this post, you have put your finger right on the Very Beginning of the Mint Saga. The prequel, as it were. You have unlocked the flashbacks that will make sense of the whole overarching narrative. This suggests the possibility of some kind of leak. Please don’t spoil the rest of the season until we finish filming.



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