i don’t want to adult. please don’t make me.
NO UNION IS MORE PROFOUND THAN MARRIAGE, FOR IT EMBODIES THE HIGHEST IDEALS OF LOVE, FIDELITY, DEVOTION, SACRIFICE, AND FAMILY.
IN FORMING A MARTIAL UNION, TWO PEOPLE BECOME SOMETHING GREATER THAN ONCE THEY WERE.
AS SOME OF THE PETITIONERS IN THESE CASES DEMONSTRATE, MARRIAGE EMBODIES A LOVE THAT MAY ENDURE EVEN PAST DEATH.
IT WOULD MISUNDERSTAND THESE MEN AND WOMEN TO SAY THEY DISRESPECT THE IDEA OF MARRIAGE.
THEIR PLEA IS THAT THEY DO RESPECT IT, RESPECT IT SO DEEPLY THAT THEY SEEK TO FIND ITS FULFILMENT FOR THEMSELVES.
THEIR HOPE IS NOT TO BE CONDEMNED TO LIVE IN LONELINESS, EXCLUDED FROM ONE OF CIVILISATION’S OLDEST INSTITUTIONS.
THEY ASK FOR EQUAL DIGNITY IN THE EYES OF THE LAW.
THE CONSTITUTION GRANTS THEM THAT RIGHT.
THE JUDGEMENT OF THE COURT OF APPEALS FOR THE SIXTH CIRCUIT IS REVERSED.
IT IS SO ORDERED.
(excuse my shouting. i’m very excited by this.)
snape does a shot… love it!
I think this is the best thing I’ve ever read:
I really loved the way in which Harry & Draco got together at first, not really talking just being there for each other.
Then being arrested and losing hope.
And then Harry’s testimony! That part totally had me crying for Harry & Draco.
I normally don’t like Fics where they fall for each other so quickly, but the way you wrote them, it felt right, and believable in the “fic” world.
So thank you very much for a different outlook on the immediate aftermath of Draco & Harry post war!
Many kudos and I look forward to reading more of your work.
Working on a 12 hour italki language challenge and a 90 day language challenge… That’s a LOT of Ukrainian filling my week, but at $97 to enroll in the 90 day and over a hundred bucks in italki tutoring, I’m finally seeing some results. I’ve got two different tutors right now: One I’m very comfortable speaking with and one that I’m sure will be good to go over grammar drills with, judging by the amount of written homework she keeps assigning. The 90 day challenge cumulates in a 15 minute video conversation so speaking has to be a major priority, but that tutor’s only available at 5 AM. The Grammar tutor is available in the afternoons. I really wish they were switched, but…
My major driver right now, is that there’s airline tickets on the line. I could fly to Ukraine for free if I “win” the challenge. I’m assuming the major thing is to completely rock the challenge and be as fluent as possible, so I’m going to kill myself learning the language if that’s what it takes.
Using the feedback from that comment above has lead me to tear apart the second Drarry fic I was almost ready to publish. I definitely have trouble with the two of them suddenly forgiving each other and falling into bed within hours of reconnecting when I read it in other fics. It’s a huge issue in any fandom when you’re writing about characters with a lot of history. They already know each other so all the verbal/emotional foreplay has been had. In my first Drarry fic, I had to put a bit of a fast-forward on the enemies to lovers thing because of the timing of the post-War events. I can’t imagine the Wizarding World would have waited to capture and put the Malfoy men on trial, but it was important that Draco and Harry had a solid relationship BEFORE Draco’s arrest. In this second one, I have more time to play with, so I’m going to drag it out until the last chapter.
I spent the eight hours in the car, driving back and forth from Woodstock, thinking about how to make it real between them at a ridiculous snail’s pace. I think I nailed it, but I can’t wait to tear into the draft and fix it.
Speaking of Drarry, I’m going to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter for a long weekend! I’ve been sorted into Ravenclaw on Pottermore (and several other website quizzes), so I decided to knit myself a Quidditch sweater! I’m so excited to knit such a big project for myself and one with such a tight deadline. This will be so much fun! I suppose I could buy one, but the movie colours are not the same as the book colours and I’m doing this by the book, as the saying goes. (HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA)
On that note - maybe I should go read some Harry Potter (Ukrainian version, of course) and work on some vocab…
The fun never ends.
i suppose there are weirder things to do than wander around a cemetery yelling “WALTER! WHERE YOU AT, WALTER?” but nothing comes to mind easily…
I have this (bad?) habit of letting people back into my life when I probably shouldn’t. Sometimes, I’m just not meant to be friends with some people despite my stupid determination to do so. Aaaaand sometimes it takes me six or seven tries to rekindle relationships that are better left dead before I come to the inevitable conclusion that I am a dumbass and that I should let them go for good.
Of course, there are some people who remain in my life who probably shouldn’t be there. The inexplicable ones.
Exhibit one: Silk Shirt Boy, he of FNFTF fame… which I can’t remember writing about here, but the tl;dr version is that FNFTF is more along the lines of friends with benefits than anything else. We might have been the original poster children for FWB… At any rate, we were friends. We dated. We broke up. He broke my heart. We managed to stay friends. We fell into bed. We fell out of bed. We managed to stay friends. Now, after almost exactly twenty years without seeing each other, we went back to the Denny’s where it pretty much all began.
I can’t write about today without divulging too much that’s really nobody’s business, so let’s just say that I’m glad we took the chance and met up.
While I’m talking about things that happened today, I managed to have a whole conversation with my grandparents in Ukrainian. Granted, they didn’t answer, but I was able to tell them that I was learning Ukrainian and that I wanted to go to Ternopil to see where they used to live.
It wasn’t great Ukrainian, but it was Ukrainian. I was able to roll my R and make the hairball sounding noise just fine.
I haven’t really done much studying - too busy trying to get the hang of the new work schedule still - but I will be doing the italki challenge in June again. Hopefully, I can dust off my rusty vocab and be functional for those twelve hours…
I guess we’ll have to see.
the twelfth doctor, ladies and gentlemen
I can’t tell you what Harry Potter / circumcision rabbit hole I jumped down with both feet a few weeks ago - and fuck me if that isn’t possibly the weirdest sentence I have ever written in my entire fucking existence to this point - but there is a very nice picture out there of a totally nude Daniel Radcliffe. Who is uncircumcised. If you care about that sort of thing.
(And the voices in my head just started arguing that “If it’s good enough for the Chosen One, it’s good enough for me…” *shakes fist at anti-circ friends*)
For the record, don’t do Harry Potter fanfic research whilst trying to keep up with yet another argumentative thread on Facebook about circumcision, kids, it’s like… I have no fucking idea. Drunk googling probably couldn’t have gotten me to that picture even if it was my sole objective to turn the computer on.
Change of topic, yeah?
Hmmmm. What could I possibly say to top that little revelation?
Yeah, I got nothin’…
I like the new job a lot more now I’m able to play without much adult supervision. I’m finding a lot of things that the previous person(s?) hadn’t been doing, but that’s because I’m approaching this position from an accountant’s POV, not a dispatcher’s. That’s not a slam against the most recent person at all, because I actually like them, but they don’t have the accounting background to see these things and understand the impact they can have. They don’t care that I’m finding their mistakes, and I’m having a blast finding them.
Of course, we’ve already had to have the “GET OUT OF MY HEAD!” chat, which is even more fascinating because I was told I wouldn’t like that person. I actually like them quite a bit.
You can graduate high school but you can never leave.
The best part of all this ridiculous drama is that EVERYBODY has decided they can talk to me about everyone else. It’s absolutely fascinating. I’m just sitting there, absorbing it all, and promptly forgetting it as soon as I get in the car.
I was nervous for a while that I had made the wrong choice, but eh… I’m going to be just fine there.
i’m not gonna lie… this is hot (stolen from deviant art, artist judy depp)
I don’t know if I like my new job’s hours.
I work 7-3:30 and I should be LOVING it. It’s not like I never went into work at 7, and I tend to burn out by 3, so these hours should be perfect… but after three weeks, I’m struggling to get my body into the rhythm of the new hours.
I haven’t been doing anything with my Ukrainian. I’ve had to stop with the tutoring because the hours that work for me usually (due to the time difference) no longer work for me. I’ve been trying to find the motivation to go to the library between 3:30 - 5, but that’s missing, too. I’m not sure how to reboot myself, but it has to happen soon.
I posted this on Facebook yesterday:
For those of you who like a good ghost story—I had to find a letter referring to a benefit I received when my father passed away. It was not where it belonged. Not the safe, not the ‘active’ files in my office, and not in the ‘storage’ files upstairs. I looked EVERYWHERE. So, I pulled some file folders related to the estate that shouldn’t have had that letter in it…
As I’m looking through PAGES of documents and about to give up I hear my dad say, “It’s the next page.” (I shit you not. It was as clear as if he had been sitting next to me.)
It was. Tucked between a pissy letter to the Toledo Coroner’s office (long story) and the addendum to the death certificate. EXACTLY where it belonged. *grumble*
The longer version is that I needed proof that my father’s pension payments would come to me for the rest of my life. I don’t know why, but the bank was requiring it as part of our mortgage refinancing. I called to request the document (because I couldn’t find the original), but I needed it ASAP, so I went on the search. The letter I needed should have either been in my office or upstairs in storage… in a folder labelled “PENSION DOX”. It wasn’t.
As I’m going through my storage area, I find three different folders full of my father’s estate crap. I’m not sure how long I need to keep it (although we’re going on 14 years now), but I haven’t had the emotional strength to go through all of it. So… I’m going through literally hundreds of pages of legal documents, notes I’ve made, my father’s address book, his to-do lists, everything and anything that I accumulated as part of closing that chapter of my life.
I get about 3/4 of the way through, and I am DONE. I can’t look at another page of this stuff. It just hurts so much, you know? All the letters from the collection agencies (dead men don’t pay bills and their daughters can’t afford to pay them either), all the back and forth with the attorney, the absolutely TERRIBLE obituary my father’s siblings wrote…
So. Just as I decide the document is gone, and I’m going to have to wait for the company to get their shit together, I hear my dad say, “It’s the next page.” Like he was sitting right the fuck behind me. I could even smell him: shoe leather and cigarette smoke. I decide to trust him, because, when disembodied voices of long-dead people tell you to do shit, you do it.
I finish reading the letter a co-worker wrote on my behalf to the Toledo Coroner’s office about the rude asshole who gave me a hard time when I asked for a copy of some document the life insurance company needed, and there it was. In all it’s two-paged, scribbled on, glory.
Of all the places that document should have been, that was the last place it belonged. I don’t know how the fuck it wound up in there. It shouldn’t have wound up there. The last time I needed that document was when we moved to Da Brook, and I had to change the direct deposit information. All the direct deposit information was in the active folder in my office. By rights, or pure laziness, it should have been in there as well. Paper clipped to it. (And I do have a very distinct memory of actually paper clipping that shit together and putting it in the yellow file folder in my office.)
How the fuck did it end up in an orange folder, labelled “Dad’s Estate 2/3” in between the angry letter and the addendum to the death certificate? (And why wasn’t the addendum paper clipped to the original like it should have been?)
I really wish I knew… Thankfully, D.O.D. is still looking out for me.