Laugh til ya cry, my family is gifted at that. Debriefing memory, something superfucked up that we accepted at the time (what choice?), like mom's everythingissalad kick, bowls full of dandelion leaves pissed on by the dog in the yard and now dressed with garlic for dinner. Remember how whenever ya got sick, she would shove a suppository of Tylenol up your ass? WHY? Like, there were fucking chewables Ma. Remember that time you actually had to have that after the car accident and after two tries you were like MA!, put your fucking glasses on!! On and on we talkstory, until we can't breathe for laughing.

Hurling shit, otherwise known as dinner at the table, another gift of our family dynamics. My sister this time, a well deserved plate at my dad. He got started on slave rape - WHY? - insisting that 'until lately' there was no rape, men and women just both accepted that sex happened on demand, and that it wasn't a violation of human rights because slaveowners could not rape property, that would make no more sense than fucking your shoe and calling it rape. "Like a knot hole in a piece of wood." I excused myself to go to the bathroom to write down 'knot hole' so I wouldn't forget the phrasing.  Through the door, I could hear my sister getting pissed, arguing with him, then she pulled his old 'in my house, you WILL..' move on him. I felt her deep satisfaction at being able to say it just like he always had, this is my house, her rage and power moved up my spine out the top of my head. Then the *crash* of the ritual plate sacrifice. I came out of the bathroom, Dad was gone, plate shards were being cleaned away, my sis was fuming and heading out to the porch to stress smoke. "Please tell me it was YOU who broke the plate (?)"

Fuck. Yes.

And I start laughing again. And so does she.

"no place like home"

roll up

VIRGO There is no one in the world who can irritate you quite like a member of your original family. This is why it's good to go into interactions with them with the intent of giving an extra berth of generosity and graciousness.

yup off to WI today hahaha jeezus :/

well irritirritating or not, it will be good to see my fam. after days of nonstop academia, 1 1/2 offers of marriage later, I am very ready for comfort food

first day it hits 60 degrees and I go home sick omg I think I am dying and I dropped my dogs off at the groomer this morning now theyre trapped downtown with the anal gland expresser lady

ballad ft ode

Update

"He wondered how it was that the women who had no power to make us happy could so easily make us unhappy."

🤔 picker is broken?

"A pussy could pull a boat", but could it ever build a cabin?

sza - go gina (stripped)

It's international women's day. FYI. Gifts are supposed to be helpful, useful, practical...

What?

As predicted: NUTS.

I booked a trip to Chicago at the end of the month. I booked another to Mexico after that, gonna go lay down a tawny color on my legs for the season, drink tequila by a pool with a book. Then, speaking of books, Boston again maybe

3fer

I know he did not want me to do what next I did. But desire was so strong within me that I did not care. I raised my hand to his hand, where it still lay on my lips, and then I opened my mouth and brushed my tongue lightly against the tip of his finger. He groaned, and as I sucked hard upon his finger he pulled me to him with the hand that was still upon my wrist. We fell together then, and nothing, I think, could have stopped us. We had each other, wild and hard, right there upon the gritstone floor, and the pain as the rough flags grazed my flesh seemed to match the pain that was in my heart. I do not know how we got upstairs, but later we lay together on the lavender-scented bed. We were tender then, and slow, taking exquisite care for each other. Afterward, as rain rapped lightly on the windows, we rested there, speaking softly of all the things that we had loved in our lives before the ravages...

“Tonight, I mean to serve you,” he said. He led me to the chair and draped my shawl around my shoulders, tenderly, just as I had so often in the last month tucked a warming blanket around him. He bent to the hearth, and when he had the fire crackling, he knelt before me and eased off my boots and then my hose, laying his long hand gently against the pale flesh of my thigh. “Your feet are cold,” he said, taking both into his broad palms. He fetched the kettle from the hob then and poured warm water into a basin. He washed my feet, kneading the soles with the pressure of his thumbs. At first, I was made all uneasy by this unaccustomed tenderness. My feet are unlovely, hard, and horny from poor boots and much walking. But as he went on, caressing my cracked heels, the knots of tension in me untangled, and I gave myself up to his touch, leaning my head back against the chair and closing my eyes and letting my own hands travel through the strands of his unbound hair. After a long time, his hands stilled. I opened my eyes and met his, gazing at me. He eased me down to him then, so that I sat astride his thighs. He pushed my skirt and placket up and went into me, gentle and slow. I wrapped my legs around him and held his face between my two hands...

And sometime in the early hours of the morning I took him again, slowly at first, and then with passion. I threw myself on top of him. 

Hundreds of pages of bubonic fever finally breaks.

"It is a great thing to be young and to live without pain. And yet it is a blessing few of us count until we lose it." Years of Wonder, Geraldine Brooks (vigil reading). It has been a clarifying week of trials.