buffyfan_5
somesickcat:

I CAN’T HEAR YOU OVER THE SOUND OF MY CLING CLANG CLONG

somesickcat:

I CAN’T HEAR YOU OVER THE SOUND OF MY CLING CLANG CLONG

inkskinned:

"My family is suffocating me with pressure to be a perfect student and daughter." (r.i.d)

people always ask me why i’m going into teaching instead of being a writer.

the number of notes on this in less than 24 hours and the number of people who said “same” or “exactly” or “about me” - that’s why. there is so much fundamentally wrong with our system. The only way to change it is from within.

Oh my god. Except I put more pressure on myself than my parents did, at least from what I remember. I’m not sure I have any concept of self-worth that isn’t tied to grades. I’ve been more of a danger to myself trying to write papers than any other time.

Aaaaaand, that was spider #3.

I’ve decided they are jumping spiders (wasn’t sure when I looked it up after the second one) which climb up, jump down on prey, and leave a web trail to climb back up, because every time I’ve found a spider I’ve felt like I walked through a very thin spider web by the front door. So when I felt that this evening going to close the blinds, I actually looked around for a spider, checking first the first two places I saw them (kitchen sink and bathroom door frame) and didn’t see one. Then I sat down to eat dinner and saw it on the top of the front door. So I didn’t gasp out loud this time because I was sort of expecting it and it wasn’t nearly as close to me as the other two (4-5 feet instead of like 1 foot) but the fact that it could have fallen on me basically from the freaking ceiling is really scary.

Every   fucking   time   I start to get comfortable here, something else happens.

I don’t think I posted that the other night a lightbulb went out in the lamp I always use (there’s no overhead light in the living room) and the next day my kitchen timer fell off the side of the fridge. Those are definitely the most minor incidents and the timer isn’t really related, but it’s like a freaking curse or something. Luckily we’d bought lightbulbs when I moved in so I just had to change that one, but I’ll have to buy some superglue to reattach the magnet to the timer.

But seriously. Something’s gotta give. Why did this have to be my experience with my first apartment? Every time I start to think about putting up the rest of my decorations, something makes me wonder if I’m really going to be able to stay here. If this is supposed to be some life lesson to keep me from getting so attached to places, it’s a hell of a way to do that. And I never really got attached to my last dorm room, so. I mean, the inadequate lighting and non-existent bathroom and kitchen counters and general 40-years-of-accumulated-grime would probably have been enough.

I just don’t know.

mean-cannibals:

it’s about damn time he had some shoes to match his fabulous murder suit

Some things never change…..

Like my utter inability to get shit done or keep track of time. *sigh* Always doing things at the last minute.  2 years, 2 years.

It really was a Fun Day with ABC Family! I watched
half of The Hunchback of Notre Dame
Alice in Wonderland
Cinderella
A Bug’s Life
Despicable Me
Brave
The Princess and the Frog

Dumbo is coming on now, but I need to go to bed. And apparently they showed Bolt and the Fox and the Hound before I put the channel on this morning. I might try to watch them all soon though.

I was watching the movie today and had an idea….

So 3 hours later I finally called back and the guy (who tbh didn’t sound like the same guy) was like ‘we have no record of a call for that apartment. You called when? You called this number?’ blah blah blah. So either he’s a little shit covering his ass or something got crossed with the lines (the same number takes you to an automated menu for maintenance and IT but I know I chose the right option) or there was someone in their office they didn’t know about…

Anyway, after I called this time the maintenance guy was here in about 10 minutes and changed the fuse like that and everything works now.

But goddamn, this place.

Even mom is talking about looking at other places now but there are still all the issues I mentioned earlier.

So
They still haven’t come to fix the fuse or whatever the heck it is.
I found out the lights in the bathroom and bedroom don’t work either.
The outlet in the bedroom still works though.
The fridge is still working so I ate some carrots and ranch.
I gave up on being able to have supper and took the stuff out of the appliances and put it in the fridge.

God forbid everything go right in this apartment for more than a day or two, hell would freeze over.

I actually started googling apartments though but I realized most don’t come furnished so I would have to pay higher rent/utilities and buy furniture and move everything and have a longer and/or more complicated commute….
I wish there was a decision calculator that could figure this out for me.

I’ve already eaten so much shit today because I’ve been hungry all day but I’m still hungry now but the non-junk food I have all has to be cooked, soooooo.

I could go out and get something but it’s already so fucking late to eat a meal and I’d have to put on real clothes (in the dark) and what if maintenance came while I was gone and didn’t fix things right…

Anyway, back to the 5 different things I have to read and make discussion posts about basically within the next 48 hours.

Trying to make dinner and the fuse to the kitchen goes out….

Now I’m sitting here waiting for maintenance to come fix it. The guy who answered the phone sounded incoherent, mumbling and not hearing me so I didn’t want to add the fact that I’m hungry to his confusion. So who knows if he even got it down right or what priority they put on fuses….

It was gonna be so good though, I was broiling a frozen burger in the toaster oven and microwaving easy mac. I really am hungry but I already ate snacks today so I want real food now. :(

At least the tv and my laptop charger are still going.

brutereason:

thelethifoldwitch:

Val was adopted. Her dad, lovely though he was, wasn’t really her dad. She didn’t know who really was though, and her dad was kind, even if she refused to call him “dad”.
She’d never known why he’d fought so hard adopt her. She was the weird kid at the foster home, the one weird stuff happened around, the one who’d managed to warn Gemma that there was an adder by her foot, and managed to tease the adder away. 
(She made things vanish too, though she didn’t know where they went. She could get them to come back, sometimes.)
But Dudley had fought for her, said that yes, the other children were perfectly lovely but Valerian Makepeace was something else, something, he said, pointing to her empty file, no other parents had seemed prepared to accept.
Val was a child Dudley Dursley fought to adopt, and adopt her he did. When things went missing he was never angry. When odd things happened he never demanded to know what had occurred. When the snake crawled up his leg and only Val could get it off he just nodded and said, “just like Harry you are.”
She didn’t really know who Harry was. 
But when, that summer, the year she turned 11, an owl landed on her windowsill, holding a letter in its beak, Dudley smiled. “Just like Harry you are,” he said again.
He explained about magic - or what little he could. Explained how his cousin - no, he wasn’t in contact with Harry much anymore, just that odd moving Christmas card each year - could do magic. Explained how there was a place in London, Diagonally, where she could get the things on the list, if she wanted to go.
Val wanted to go.
Dudley sent a letter to his cousin. The address (Godric’s Hollow, what a funny name, Val thought) neatly written and the letter quickly responded to. A barn owl (named Wendelin, apparently) came with a letter saying to go to a particular corner in London, where Harry would meet them.
Meet them he did, him and his whole family, and extended family, red head after red head, and Harry standing dark haired among them all, two dark haired boys, bickering beside him.
"Val are you?" he said, bending a bit so his eyes, dancing and green, were at her height. "It’s alright, I didn’t know what was going on when I was told. You’re a witch. Have you ever done strange things before?"
Val nodded because she had, though she’d always hesitated to call them magic.
"It’s alright. Would you like me to show you how to do something else strange?"
Val nodded because this was an adult not just, as dad did, accepting the strangeness, but asking for it. When she tapped the bricks, lifted by Dudley so she could reach the top one, she didn’t expect anything to happen.
But they moved.
Behind her the army of redheads cheered, and as her dad lifted her down and touched a kiss to her hair she smiled, properly, widely, as she handed the wand back.
She knew what she was now.
(Image Source)
(Idea of Dudley having a muggle-born Slytherin daughter from ninnieamee)

I just…want to read the entire seven-book series.

I’m crying…

brutereason:

thelethifoldwitch:

Val was adopted. Her dad, lovely though he was, wasn’t really her dad. She didn’t know who really was though, and her dad was kind, even if she refused to call him “dad”.

She’d never known why he’d fought so hard adopt her. She was the weird kid at the foster home, the one weird stuff happened around, the one who’d managed to warn Gemma that there was an adder by her foot, and managed to tease the adder away. 

(She made things vanish too, though she didn’t know where they went. She could get them to come back, sometimes.)

But Dudley had fought for her, said that yes, the other children were perfectly lovely but Valerian Makepeace was something else, something, he said, pointing to her empty file, no other parents had seemed prepared to accept.

Val was a child Dudley Dursley fought to adopt, and adopt her he did. When things went missing he was never angry. When odd things happened he never demanded to know what had occurred. When the snake crawled up his leg and only Val could get it off he just nodded and said, “just like Harry you are.”

She didn’t really know who Harry was. 

But when, that summer, the year she turned 11, an owl landed on her windowsill, holding a letter in its beak, Dudley smiled. “Just like Harry you are,” he said again.

He explained about magic - or what little he could. Explained how his cousin - no, he wasn’t in contact with Harry much anymore, just that odd moving Christmas card each year - could do magic. Explained how there was a place in London, Diagonally, where she could get the things on the list, if she wanted to go.

Val wanted to go.

Dudley sent a letter to his cousin. The address (Godric’s Hollow, what a funny name, Val thought) neatly written and the letter quickly responded to. A barn owl (named Wendelin, apparently) came with a letter saying to go to a particular corner in London, where Harry would meet them.

Meet them he did, him and his whole family, and extended family, red head after red head, and Harry standing dark haired among them all, two dark haired boys, bickering beside him.

"Val are you?" he said, bending a bit so his eyes, dancing and green, were at her height. "It’s alright, I didn’t know what was going on when I was told. You’re a witch. Have you ever done strange things before?"

Val nodded because she had, though she’d always hesitated to call them magic.

"It’s alright. Would you like me to show you how to do something else strange?"

Val nodded because this was an adult not just, as dad did, accepting the strangeness, but asking for it. When she tapped the bricks, lifted by Dudley so she could reach the top one, she didn’t expect anything to happen.

But they moved.

Behind her the army of redheads cheered, and as her dad lifted her down and touched a kiss to her hair she smiled, properly, widely, as she handed the wand back.

She knew what she was now.

(Image Source)

(Idea of Dudley having a muggle-born Slytherin daughter from ninnieamee)

I just…want to read the entire seven-book series.

I’m crying…