ff (nope)

2tired2blorg.

i got my ticket to the opening night of the mockingjay. so. instead. here:



happy friday, tributes.

saved my life

oooof great weekends make for tiiiiired mondays, ugh. a sliiiightly slower jam from ms robyn & the röyksopp boys. hi.



happy monday, indie queens.

ff

"Was it really that difficult for you to imagine what Erin's point was, did you not even try, or did you actively not want to understand her?"

just wanted to start things off today with that there quote from a much longer post by an internet-friend of mine, taking to task a jackass who was all concern-troll-y .this internet-friend has proven to be insanely patient and pointed with concern-trolls or full-on-trolls et al. thank you, internet-friend, for being able to have these conversations over and over. i had just looked at the string of absurdities and assholeries and tapped right on out - i am too tired. i have zero desire to try to teach someone something they are actively being ignorant about. cheers to those who keep on keepin' on. lord knows it ain't easy. you make the world better. you make me a little less tired. a little more hopeful.

now! onwards to readings. lots of good stuff for you this week. check it:

{a true (illustrated) story by ariel schrag}

* the ping-pong theory of tech sexism

 

**trigger warning on these next two**

 

 

 

 

{anonymous for the nib} 

 

* trigger warning: breakfast

 

 

{from 'prey' written by kathleen hale for hazlitt}

 

* prey

 

on that last one there... it is a stunningly beautiful piece of writing, i think. it isn't a fun read, of course, it isn't an easy read. but, oh, it is something profoundly moving. it is a well-crafter work. if we must read these stories - and as long as the statistics are what they are i feel that we must - let them all be this honest, let them all cut this deeply.

 

happy friday, all of us playing dead on our backs.



saved my life

after brooklyn. i am tired, so tired. robyn.



happy monday, eyelashes.

ff

  {jenna malone is my feelings right now, and almost always, really}

too moody right now for feminism, sorry, hate everyone. have a good weekend, all y'all. okay bye.

legs

diving. i had been fighting with whether or not to go this week. i was tired as hell, as usual (neuro appointment so soon, omg can't wait), and i'd cycled into my 4th cold this winter. but generally getting into the pool makes me forget those things for a while. diving makes me happy and excited and almost almost feel like a real human person who is awake in the world. so. i went.

and on my second warm-up jump... (second. WARM-UP! not even attempting a basic front dive. just. hurdle, double bounce, front jump.) i lost any sense of centre, twisted in the air, and as my left foot touched down on the board, my right foot touched down on nothing and i smacked face first into the water, shinning the board on the way.

so it hurt. but not even that bad. (not as bad as my flop last week.) mostly i was confused about what my core had done. so i shook it off and laughed and got back up and did another totally messed shaky hurdle, but didn't fall off the board. buuut. coach pointed out that my shin was bleeding and had me sit down with ice on it. at which point i started crying. and then i couldn't. stop. crying. i was frustrated with myself because it didn't even really hurt, and i was only crying cuz tired/frustrated. which made me cry more, which made me more frustrated, you get the idea. then all the sweet little teenanged divers and the coaches kept asking if i was okay, and looking at me so sweetly-nicely, and that just made me more frustrated with myself cuz THIS IS FINE, STOP IT, SELF, and i couldn't think of an easy way to explain to everyone 'oh i just haven't had real sleep in, like, 2 years, and i haven't cried in a few days so my eyes are just doing this thing, it's fine, don't worry! fine, fine. go about your dives!'. embarrassed. angry. tired. tired tired. tired.

eventually i stopped crying enough to do two real simple t-jumps (so as to not have DISASTER be my last jump of the day), went to the showers, cried there for a while more, went home. ridiculous. more ice. some tv and wine.

the good news is that i'm not shaken by the board. the bad news is that i don't trust my body these days, but that isn't so much news. i look forward to a time when a mistake feels like just a mistake, not one more piece of evidence that there is something wrong that i can't seem to solve. i look forward to a time when i am not teetering constantly on an emotional edge, unbalance and brimming with fatigue. i look forward to a time when good days are more than not-feeling-like-absolute-hell, but are actually good. strong. consistent. reliable. rested. because crying on a pool deck in front of teenagers is just not cool, erin.

mudded

more soon with a full tough mudder race report when words make sense and can go in an order again. but for today:

this was the best thing. after a week (and a while) of doubting my body and my mind, it was all the things to feel strong and powerful and brave and tough. now i am home and bruised and scrambled and happy.

saved my life

today i am feeling hollowed out. so tired, still, despite all the sleep. despite all the caffeine. truly. all the caffeine. black tea, energy capsules, red bull, coffee beans. and still falling asleep where i stand. not a moment of clarity or alertness. and then, not so surprisingly, the spinning headache and swirling cold sweat all up my arms. i am fed up with this body today.

this quiet desperate dance, then. i had forgotten how wonderful it was.



when other helpers fail and comforts flee...
still, always, my favourite hymn.
i just want to be able to make it to ballet tonight. please.