What I wouldn't do to hear Kholby Wardell sing Noel's Lament in French.
I need a website that can find an existing sewing pattern for a cosplay. I want to take a picture of what I want and I want to see a matching pattern.
"I have book smarts"
"I have street smarts"
I have a hyper specific combination that allows me to kick your ass while explaining why the Trojan War could have actually been possible
Just accidentally swallowed a pea whole and saw my life flash before my eyes.
Have I told y’all about my husband’s Fork Theory? If I did already, pretend I didn’t, I’m an old.
So the Spoon Theory is a fundamental metaphor used often in the chronic pain/chronic illness communities to explain to non-spoonies why life is harder for them. It’s super useful and we use that all the time. But it has a corollary. You know the phrase, “Stick a fork in me, I’m done,” right? Well, Fork Theory is that one has a Fork Limit, that is, you can probably cope okay with one fork stuck in you, maybe two or three, but at some point you will lose your shit if one more fork happens. A fork could range from being hungry or having to pee to getting a new bill or a new diagnosis of illness. There are lots of different sizes of forks, and volume vs. quantity means that the fork limit is not absolute. I might be able to deal with 20 tiny little escargot fork annoyances, such as a hangnail or slightly suboptimal pants, but not even one “you poked my trigger on purpose because you think it’s fun to see me melt down” pitchfork.
This is super relevant for neurodivergent folk. Like, you might be able to deal with your feet being cold or a tag, but not both. Hubby describes the situation as “It may seem weird that I just get up and leave the conversation to go to the bathroom, but you just dumped a new financial burden on me and I already had to pee, and going to the bathroom is the fork I can get rid of the fastest.”
"Honey, I know my mom can be a bit much but I wouldn't call her a monster-in-law."
"No, I called her a Mobster-in-law."
*hears fait bada-bing bada-booms coming from the kitchen*
Does anybody else just want to cry when they see a math problem?
Like I don't care that Jorge has 20 watermelons or that he has to launch them to his friend Bianca on the fifth floor of their building. He can figure that out himself.
To the guy who approached my dog and I at night and asked to pet her and then understood that her running away with a toy in her mouth did not mean that she wanted to play with you, Thank you.
Tell me your medical gaslighting story.