Hi Love! Just Dropping In To Say I Adore You To The Moon And Back!

FISH ON TUMBLR SAID BI AND PAN RIGHTS!!!!!!

(also sidenote: hey that’s me!!! I’m bi/pan!!!!)

I still think that my favorite urban legend/folklore fact is that there are certain areas in New Orleans where you cannot get a taxi late at night not because it isn’t safe, but because taxi companies have had recurring problems of picking up ghosts in those areas who are not aware that they are dead and disappearing from the cab before reaching the destination and therefore stiffing the driver on the fare causing a loss for the company.

How abusive childhood teaches you to stay in abusive relationships:

you have to be obedient and submissive in your childhood if you don’t want to get beaten, you’re taught this is normal in life, so why should you doubt it when it happens in your relationship?

you’re supposed to care about everyone else more than yourself, you’re taught to provide comfort and be minimally or completely non-demanding of other family members, always put yourself last, and this is exactly what abusive partner will demand of you as well, how would you fight it if you’re taught this is just your place in life?

your appearance, interests, skills, achievements, and faults are constantly exposed to criticism, insults, humiliation and ridicule in abusive childhood, and you’re taught it’s normal, how are you supposed to fight it when it happens in a relationship?

you’re humiliated and ridiculed for seeking intimacy or try to express yourself in your childhood, how would you know it’s okay for you to desire understanding, consideration, reassurance and intimacy in your relationship?

if you’re used to being hit, humiliated, and having your objections to it ignored, or even worse, minimized and punished by even worse violence, how are you supposed to defend yourself when it happens in a sexual situation? how would you be able to know it’s wrong for another person to harm you if your parents have been doing it, and they supposedly love you?

if you’re taught to always be grateful that things aren’t worse, always compare yourself to someone who is tortured worse, how are you ever supposed to reach out and get help for being abused? how are you supposed to know when your situation is really, really bad? There’s always going to be someone somewhere in the world tortured worse, and this becomes a reason for you to suffer in silence.

Abusive parents are direct cause of abusive relationships, if your boundaries aren’t destroyed and your sense of what’s acceptable and to be tolerated in your close relationships skewed to allow abuse, you have much easier time rejecting abusive relationships later in life. 

Went to the World Taxidermy Show up in Missouri, it was pretty amazing.

Since I hate flying I drove there, and since I have a short attention span I made a lot of stops along the way.

Day 1 was coming to a close and I still hadn’t figured out where I was going to park for the night since planning ahead is for losers. Instead I picked a nearby state park at random and hoped for the best, and got it.

Providence Canyon state park in southern Georgia.

Apparently it’s the result of people messing up farming? I don’t know how you screw up growing plants badly enough to create a miniature replica of the grand canyon, but there you go. Hiking down into the canyon is easy enough, but coming back up with the royal bowling ball in my backpack was Not Great.

Onward I drove, watching the countryside gradually change. Soon something strange and unexpected began to appear along the roadsides.

Rocks!

Holy shit, just wild rocks laying around! Can you imagine?

Absolutely charmed and also concerned that I’d better pull over somewhere to get a closer look at these babies before I drove past them entirely, I pulled into Rickwood Caverns state park. 

Wasn’t feeling the paid mile-long hike through the depths of the earth just then, but there sure were a lot of rocks!

Moderately satisfied by the number and quality of wild rocks encountered, I moved on to Springfield Missouri for the convention. Antsy in the city, I utterly failed to take advantage of the convention events and instead fucked off to look at even more rocks.

Goddamn, would you believe this? These are the biggest rocks I’ve ever seen. Of course I climbed one. Then I remembered that I’m getting a little old to be clambering up rocks, and acutely aware of how breakable my bones are, and sheepishly climbed down.

Oh yeah, here’s a queer interspecies poly goose family and there’s nothing you can do about it.

I left the city as soon as I was done with the dealer room and had pictures of everything, lured by the siren call of a town called Hot Springs.

First though, a brief stop through a park in the mountains.

More rocks! And WATER! At the same time! Holy shit, what a world we live in. Did I shovel particularly enticing damp rocks into my pockets as I walked along? You bet your ass I did.

Onwards and upwards, into the Ozarks! And up, and up, at some point figuring out that you’re supposed to change into 2nd gear. Eventually the scenery was just too much and I desperately pulled over into a scenic overlook at a mountain top. This is so high, oh man. For added context my home town is 15 feet above sea level.

Slate! Just a whole wall of slate with water trickling down! Yes, obviously I stuffed more damp rocks into my pockets. It was time to move on though, the town of Hot Springs still called to me.

Oh, but there was time to stretch my legs at the Iron Springs state park. 

Finally though, we were closing in on the destination. Hot Springs, a town named for hot springs! Oh man, rocks have been pretty great so far, and springs continue to impress; I just cannot wait to see what adding geothermal activity to that mix looks like!

So hey, guess what? There aren’t actually hot springs for you to visit in motherfucking Hot Springs.

Bitter, but less bitter than I would otherwise be if I hadn’t spent the day driving through the most extravagantly fabulous roads you can imagine, I continued on towards home as it began to drizzle.

It was still raining the next day, putting a literal damper on any urge to explore. Still, a petrified forest in Mississippi? Drizzle or not, who could possibly resist that?

There was a giftshop full of rocks, and an overpriced lump of common sandstone from out further west polished into a sphere like a sandy gas giant replica caught my heart.

Kept moving, ended up in a skeezy gambling town. Tried to eat my lunch on a public dock, dumb mutt rushed into the gross water. No, stop…

I ended the day on the Gulf, hoping the morning would hold better things.

It held a bland beach and a dead remora, which I only barely resisted dragging along with me as a souvenir.

Back in Florida, but in less of a hurry this time. 

Moruti was unimpressed with the legendary Fountain of Youth, but perked up when she noticed a squirrel.

It turns out there -is- a waterfall in Florida, and it falls into a sinkhole. Because of course it does.

Now I’m back after a week, getting things back in order, catching up on responsibilities, settling into work mode again. Ignoring the phantom weight of a sandstone sphere for now.

how do I find a fic that’s exactly like the one I’ve just read but also different

We really are a police state.

me holding a gun to a mushroom: tell me the name of god you fungal piece of shit

mushroom: can you feel your heart burning? can you feel the struggle within? the fear within me is beyond anything your soul can make. you cannot kill me in a way that matters

me cocking the gun, tears streaming down my face: I’M NOT FUCKING SCARED OF YOU

I almost bought this ominous box.

Ok so Dallas, Texas now has a Trans Pride Mural dedicated to Marsha P. Johnson and Sylvia Rivera and I’m living for it