Keep A Couple Stars Under My Pillow For The 🌌starman🌠

the horse girl -> elephant boy pipeline

posts that make you go "wait they hired a person each and every single time they needed an animal to make animal noises in a cartoon? don't they have a soundboard for that yet?"

posts that make you go "wait why was Abu in Hercules"

"I love you guys, but you cannot get that in baking"

oh okay

HEY OP I T- *checks to see if you can hear me over the blender* hEY OP I TURNED UP THE BLENDER AGAIN DO YOU LIKE IT

Congratulations! As per the results of the last poll, you all voted to...

Put Uther in the blender! 🥳

on Neighbors

I'm walking home from a neighbor's house, the one that is friends with my mom, the one that coached me with public speaking and got me to nationals as a kid, the one that surprised me with a scholarship when I graduated high school. It's a slightly chill evening and it's beautiful.

(We had been talking about my resumé and how I could improve it. We workshopped both that and my portfolio, and discussed possibilities of studies abroad, and swapped stories on things we missed from each other's lives now that I live hundreds of miles away.)

Now I'm walking home in the chill blue evening and I walk past my neighbor's house, the one with the chihuahuas, the one that over a decade ago rescued me when I got my pants caught in my bike chain and fell, trapped. Never met me in my life but when I fell in front of her house she came running out to help my small crying self.

And now I'm walking past my neighbor's house, the pale blue one on the corner, the neighbor that had a tire swing even though she was elderly, the place my family would go on walks to when I was a kid so the kids could play on her tire swing while the grownups talked. That tree died eventually, and my dad helped her cut it down. She gave him the tire swing to take home to us kids.

Over there across the way is my neighbor's house, the one that is good friends with my grandma and paid me to water her plants whenever she went away for a week. I see her husband from time to time out in the garage when I pass their place.

Over just a little bit farther is the orange house that looks like a castle, with the neighbors who had daughters just older than my sister and I, daughters who always gathered up their old clothing into giant bags to drop at our doorstep so my sister and I could have new clothing. A treasure. Their mom came to my graduation and got me a gift.

Now I'm walking down the road and there are the neighbors right next to us, with the small loud dogs, the neighbors that know my dad well. He always has my brothers over to do yard work and the such. Dad loves sending over the boys to collect leaves in the autumn from our neighbors - most of them are elderly and can use the help, and my dad collects truckfuls of leaves to compost for his garden. A win-win.

And there at the end, of course, are my neighbors who always loved to see us each Halloween. They were always prepared for us, always the first ones we saw. My youngest brother always took care of their dog. When our dog got out, that neighbor let us know and we were able to get her before she got too far away.

We were generations apart, my neighbors and I. Yet that never stopped them from loving my family and me.

I hope they know the fond love I have for them now, despite no longer living there.

PSA (public sippy announcement)

and, of course, the humble fermata (Australian friendly period):

I love you dead punctuation marks.

Here to mention that this is the same friend that sent me this once:

"I'm a burden" congratulations Janet you have discovered the way that society is meant to function?

best thing you could have ever said to me. like my dad always says. the only way to treat a cold is with contempt. I present: the only way to treat Sad Boi hours is with disdain

[ID: screenshot with the words "And yeah we've all got limits and flaws and whatever"]

adorable dad thing today: watching the man cook

for context, when he was a young college student he worked at a fancy restaurant in the middle of nowhere. From time to time he pulls out his skills from that restaurant whether it's cooking or random waiter things or whatnot. He absolutely loves cooking. He's so good at it too.

And, I don't know, there's just something about it. Him opening the oven to pull out three pans of golden beautiful enchiladas made with such specificity and love. Enough to feed his family for two days and also a couple of young adults who were stopping by for food. The love. Small batch huge heart. So much care.

He used to hate complex foods. He used to be a horrible picky eater who didn't like tomatoes or mushrooms or anything red or anything grown up. (This was before I knew him, but I know stories.) He used to hate cooking. And then, to be a dad, he learned. He learned for work to support his family and then he learned for love to feed his family. And decades later he's still at it. And it's incredible. I cannot fathom food as good as my dad's.

Forget adorable. My dad is precious.

me and my ace backlit keyboard 🟪🟣💜🖤⚫♣️♠️🟪◾◼️▪️✒️🖤🩶🤍💜▫️◻️◽🎵🎶⚪⬜🔳🪨🌫️🌪️🪽🎹⌨️💿☂️🌂⛓️📎🖇️📓📄✉️🔮🎵🎶🎼➰

🎼🌫️◻️🎵♣️🖇️🪽🔮📓💿📄☂️