|
|
For the first time in almost two years, I completely spaced that these posts are a thing I do! Just absolutely blacked it out like it was redacted by the CIA, so I did part of this on my phone while Crystal drove us toward Minneapolis and the rest very, very early today! Apologies for… any remaining mess.
 As I’ve probably mentioned a hundred-thousand times before, I have a LOT of trouble absorbing information aurally, so I’ve – frustratingly, tbh! – never been able to get into podcasts. But I kept seeing people talk about My Brother, My Brother, and Me and just generally excitedly recommending all of the McElroy endeavors, so I tried it out and it’s 1. hysterical, and 2. so much easier to listen to than I expected and Crystal and I have been listening to it a lot! (Well, like, one or two a week. YMMV on “a lotâ€. I know you people are insatiable when it comes to podcasts.) I still don’t know which one is which or whose voice belongs to who, but that’s really fine and I figure after enough time I’ll probably get it and in the meantime I laugh a lot and also extremely love listening to them laugh at each other. What finally convinced me to try listening was this animatic someone did about decorative fettucine. Perhaps it will convince you also if you don’t already listen!
 A guy I follow on Instagram (He did merch at a show Crys and I went to and was extremely nice and friendly!) mentioned he was going out on tour with the KVB later this month, so I did as I almost always do when people talk about music in any capacity and went to check them out. I listened through their entire discography and was super into it! I am especially into their most recent album Only Now Forever, especially that eponymous song, “On My Skin,” and “Afterglow,” but the album as a whole is just really solid. It’s that sort of dreamy and ethereal synth pop shoegaze thing, which has been extremely my musical wheelhouse lately and I’m glad to have another discography to add to my playlist and a new “Fans Also Like” section to explore on Spotify.
 Because Crystal and I have a long, long, looooong history with Supernatural and because it’s about to go into its final season, we decided to try to catch up so we could watch it in (roughly) real time as it airs. It hasn’t gone exactly to plan — we’re nine episodes into season 13 — but it has been pretty fun! I can’t say that I’ve ever thought of Supernatural as GOOD, per se, even when it was my favorite show, but it has always been a pretty okay time. The characters get both a little better and a little worse each year, but I’ve really fallen for some of the recurring characters (Rowena! Jack! Crowley, obviously! Castiel, sometimes to often!) and have really, really loved the reintroduction of Mary Winchester. If you could go back to 2006 and tell me that this goofy show I was obsessed with would get FIFTEEN SEASONS, I would have laughed in your face. What a wild ride, man.
And three to look forward to…
  
Here’s some more stuff I refrained from posting on the internet until now!
yesterday at the grocery store the lady in front of me’s total came to $69.71 and i closed my eyes, tipped my head up and went, “SO close” but thankfully neither she nor the young guy working the register heard me and i did not have to deal with the repercussions of that particular choice
i held the door for a youth with a burgeoning pornstache at the post office and and said, “after you” and he gave me that long-necked head bob that elongated men cartoon characters do and then said, “badass” ????
u know how it’s hard to stop yourself from talking about yr hyperfixations and u can feel it like, just… coming out of u from the deep depths like an unstoppable rush of water from a broken main? same, but also my most potent hyperfixation is… myself and it is,,, bad
ONCE AGAIN i have spent money and felt a brief orgasmic thrill and now… only misery
i just want straight white men to stop making things, i want them to not be in charge of anything anymore, i just want to be free of their shit… please… please… they had their turn, please make them stop
crustal forced me to finally watch the original star wars trilogy at fuckin gunpoint while i was vulnerable and lonely 1300 miles away from everything i knew and loved and 8 years later she refuses to get amped with me about going to see the last star war in theaters!!!!! marriage is a sham!!!!!!!
sometimes you gotta feel better by feeling really really really bad on purpose
drove past a girl who got pulled over this morning and she was taking a selfie with the cop car lights behind her and 1. this is something only a white person could do and 2. i strangely respect the energy of it
til it’s better to have an alive spider on your body than a dead spider because the alive spider also does not want to be on you unlike a dead spider which cannot have a preference
I do still use Twitter, @ashrocketship, so you know… Don’t miss out on those either. Because I’m a real gift to the world, you know?
I’m 34. I’ve been 34 for a little while and I’ll be 35 fairly soon. I’m an adult. I own a house. I get oil changes when my car tells me to. I get up and go to my job five days a week and work 40 to 50 hours. I help keep two animals and two adult people alive. I pay my bills on time. I successfully use most of the fresh food I buy. I get a flu shot every year. I have a skincare routine. I usually have clean clothes when I need them. I’m never late to things.
I will never, ever, as long as I am alive, make my fucking bed every morning.
First of all, I’m not doing anything because a fucking Navy Admiral tells me to. Second of all, making your bed prevents your sweaty sheets from drying out adequately enough to kill the bacteria and microbes that thrive in them. Third, and most importantly, I. Don’t. Want. To.
And, like always, I am here, not to shame the bed-makers (Do your thing, whatever makes you happy, etc.) but to tell you that you also do not have to make your fucking bed every fucking morning, especially not just because a whole bunch of people say you should.
I do all those ‘adult’ things up there without making my bed in the morning or, actually, ever unless I just changed the sheets and am feeling fussy/fancy/froggy. I do all of those ‘adult’ things despite and in the face of my sometimes debilitating depression and anxiety. I do all those ‘adult’ things to keep myself alive even though sometimes I’d rather not be alive at all.
So many of our conceptual notions of adulthood are based on some Baby Boomer’s idea of what you should be doing at 25 and 30 and 35, but 2019 isn’t 1979 and I have zero desire to base my lifestyle habits on the opinions of people who believe in bootstrap ideology and think c+ping a block of incoherent text somehow protects the intellectual property rights for the Minion memes they share on Facebook.
Life is so, so short. Please stop beating yourself up because you can’t or don’t want to do things that other people say are necessary for success. If you woke up this morning, you’re already ahead. Figure out what feels like success to you, what feels like achievement, like progress, like action, like functioning and define yourself. Everyone’s normal looks different and there is such a good chance that you’re doing just fine in life, even if it doesn’t feel like it.
You ultimately have so little control over the way life plays out, decide what adds value to yours whenever you can and ignore what other people have to say about it. You don’t have to make your bed. You don’t have to define success with other people’s words. You’re doing just fine.
I drastically reduced the amount of time I spend on Twitter back in… March, I think? Because I was feeling really agitated about increasingly meaningless things and that seemed like it just, was not good for my mental health. And while I have missed it (Most of my internet relationships are on Twitter! And I do actually like people!) the thing I have missed the most is actually just barfing every single one of my asinine thoughts into the void whenever I have them. I started throwing them into a Notes file on my phone because, well, I have a big ego and I think every thought I have has value, so I might as well hang on to them, right?
Here are ten things I hung on to, untweeted!
as i was listening to slipknot for the third day in a row today i finally understood why people use spotify private sessions
my phone just locked me out for screen downtime and i was about to extend and then nodded sagely and said, “no you’re right” out loud to it
the best part of healing a tattoo is that while you are itchy and suffering you can point your tattoo at people you love and yell, “YOU WANT SOME SKINNN!??”
i’ve stayed in some nice hotels in my day, but i’ve never stayed in a hotel nice enough to have good toilet paper
i have exactly one (1) skill and it is finding buzz lightyear vinylmation figurines in still-sealed blind boxes at disneyland. i have done it for myself. i have done it for friends. i have done it for strangers. i would do it for you, if vinylmation was still a thing.
I MISS ROCK N JOCK!!!!!!!!
the absolute power i feel when someone who follows me on goodreads adds a book i’ve recently reviewed to their “want to read” shelf,,, absolutely despotic
look i get that bands want to make “””””NICE”””””” vinyl and stuff but like, can u stop… making double albums!!!! when they are not necessitated by length???? like…. FIDELITY sure, but can u not,,, make me get up FOUR TIMES to listen too your ART??!
i have extreme dad energy in that i am always needing lights on because i can’t fuckin see for shit but also am always saying, ‘do we NEED every light in this house on?!”
so many tattoo artists i follow own naked cats and like,,, you can’t tattoo an animal, buddy
I do still occasionally use Twitter, @ashrocketship, so you know… Don’t miss out on those either. Because I’m a real gift to the world, you know?
|
|
