Hello.I've been off Tumblr for a long while, and now I'm going back to school. I still plan on popping over here every now and then, but you can always find me on FFN and AO3 @littlefoxylove
my mother taught me to crochet when i was young. she was left handed, so she taught me how in the bathroom mirror so her hands would be in the right position.
she learned to crochet from her grandmother, who was right handed. her grandma was the one that originally used the bathroom mirror to teach her granddaughter properly.
i find something poetic about that. here in this bathroom mirror, through generations, we adapt to our young who have a different way of learning and interacting with the world
A mark on your forehead identifies the god you must worship to stay alive, usually by joining its local church or temple. Your mark is unknown, meaning an old, forgotten god sponsored you. To survive, you must either find an old temple to worship at, or do the arduous task of building a new one
Nobody in your small coastal village has ever seen the Godmark that you were born with. It’s a dark russet sequence of criss-crossing lines, with a vertical arrowhead on the left and a circle on the right, just over where your brow meets your temple. Some of the traders who come down from the mountain say it looks like one of the scripts used in the hinterlands, but not a language that any of them recognize.
“If she’s got the temperament for it, she should try her luck inland,” they advise. “No point her starting a temple here if she’d find her people elsewhere, with a little searching.”
At first, your parents are reluctant to send you away. Though you’re well-behaved and diligent in your chores, you’re a sickly child with no God to worship. And besides, you’ve always been the dreamy type–inclined to lose track of time watching the path of rain droplets chasing down the window, or the fronds of an anemone as it sways in a rock pool.
Instead, they send you to the temple of the Storm to learn all you’ll need for your own God. You are happy there, for a time: making up beds and serving food to the castaways who pass through, keeping vigil at the lighthouse, burning incense and praying with the loyal widows and orphans of the drowned.
One such widow, an old, old lady, touches the mark on your forehead. “I recognise those letters. We wrote this way in the town where I grew up, way off past the mountains.”
Your heartbeat quickens. “What does it say!?”
She squints, eyes engulfed by wrinkles and hidden behind smudged glass. “A… Ar… Oh, I can’t remember how to speak it. I left before I learnt my letters properly. There was a war, you know. But I remember,” she says, mistily, “the most beautiful pink and white flowers used to grow, on the borders of the wheat fields…”
You try to ask more questions, but remembering the war distresses her, and so you speak of other things. When she’s drifted off to sleep, you get to your feet, go home and tell your parents: you are leaving in search of your God.
OH MY GOD MY FRIEND AND I ARE GOING TO NEW YORK FUCKING CITY IN MAY, AND I’M GOING TO SEE MOTHERFUCKING CAISSIE LEVY ON BROADWAY! OH MY FUCKING GOD I’M SO EXCITED I FUCKING LOVE FROZEN HOLY SHITBALLS.
okay, so i just realized i’m gonna miss Caissie Levy by a couple months, and I briefly considered a one-day trip to NYC to see her perform, and then my rational self was like “no, don’t be ridiculous” and i remembered that that’s the beauty of theater.
casts come and go, directors come and go, theaters come and go, and each one leaves a unique touch on the story, and the beauty is that it evolves and changes and isn’t set in stone, and i need to remember that and also that i can listen to caissie levy sing monster any time i want in my car, thank you spotify.
but now i miss theater soooo much ugh
BUT I’M GONNA SEE MOTHERFUCKIN’ WHOEVER THEY CAST AS ELSA NEXT ON FUCKIN BROADWAY!
I’M GONNA SEE MOTHERFUCKIN’ CIARA RENEÉ ON FUCKIN BROADWAY FUCK YEAH YOU GO GIRL
Well fuck, I’m not going to see Broadway anytime soon, but YOU CAN BET YOUR ASS I’M GONNA GO WHENEVER EVERYTHING RE-OPENS AND I’M GONNA TRY AND HELP THESE FOLKS OUT UNTIL THEN
Well, this didn’t end the way I expected it to. Thought I was going to see it tonight, back in October.
Hopefully when the North American tour reopens I can go see it! Now that everything is cancelled all my PTO got rescinded, so I’ve got loaaaads of that.
I’m at a starbucks, so i actually have functional internet, so i reblogged some stuff, and here’s a life update because i have not forgotten tumblr and i am also alive despite my disappearance.
okay, so:
1. i bought a sewing machine
2. work sucks ass and we don’t get hazard pay, but at least i still have a job, i guess
3. i’m applying to medical school, and i finally took the mcat after something like four years of avoiding it
4. i bought a bunch of shit on etsy to soothe my soul, and that includes a 14 inch busk. #longtorsolife
5. i spent three days in a small ass cabin and it was glorious.
6. the cats are good. stevie is trying to devalue my mcat books by eating the FUCKING COVERS TO WAKE ME UP WHEN SHE’S HUNGRY. what the fuck. protips about this?? she is adamant on being fed by 0730.
7. but good
it’s funny what you do and don’t remember from life.
1. still have the sewing machine. 10/10
2. i quit that job
3. back in school lol i’ll be a student forever
4. i still buy shit on etsy. i now tailor my shirts because they’re all still short
5. still dream about the cabin place 15/10 i wish i could live there
6. stevie still chews on books. she took a literal bite out of da vinci’s bography. She now likes dumping LOTR and my star trek books on the floor
