embrace the crazy

I had another of those life-changing realizations yesterday.

Well, actually I’ve had a couple this week, but this one was a classic “what happens when Alyssa tries to use TV shows as therapy” moment. And, as always happens with such things, it was exactly what I needed.

I’m not sure if I’ve posted on this blog about my tendency to end up watching things exactly when I need a particular message from them without being aware of that detail until it happens, but… that’s a thing. If I imprint onto a show, fully emotionally connect with it, there’s usually something I need to learn from it. I’ve been sorta tracking this pattern for over three years, and it is a Thing for me.

So, this week. Two shows, because sometimes I don’t listen to stuff the first time and sometimes it’s really reassuring to know I’m not alone.

First, I finally finished watching season 2 of The Magicians. (Disclaimer – if you have any triggers whatsoever, DO NOT WATCH THAT SHOW. It’s a content nightmare if you have any visual triggers of any species!!) I have a weakness for utterly trashy genre shows, and that one hits all my buttons. Not to mention that s2, in my opinion, made the characters more likable. (There were multiple moments when I felt sorry for Margo, who I utterly disliked in s1. It’s that good.) Admittedly I’ll watch just about anything that originally airs on SyFy, but… idk, I could ramble on about how y’all should watch Magicians if you’re strong enough to handle the content level, but that is not the point of this post.

Point is there’s this plotline in the second half of the season, which I am going to be vague about because it involves a show-only character (the show is loosely based on a series of books that I personally found boring as hell), that hit my emotional buttons. And there’s this one scene, about two thirds of the way through the season, that resonated so hard with me. All I can say, because SPOILERS and yes it aired like two months ago but I am a nice person about my underappreciated shows, is it involves one character trying to convince another character that he doesn’t care about her crazy, he loves her and he wants her and screw it, he’ll put up with whatever bullshit she throws at him if it means they can attempt to be together.

As someone who has been told by everyone she’s ever liked that she is too much crazy for them… I legit cried.

And then, a very similar message on a sliiightly similar show.

I’m gonna do a bigger post about my feelings re: American Gods once the season is over. Okay, this being me, there will be SEVERAL posts. For now, what matters is I’ve been a feelings puddle about this damn show since the casting was announced a year ago and the first ep just confirmed that yup, I’m gonna be spending my summer feeling All The Things about a show that’s basically a roadtrip comedy crossed with… guh, I don’t even know how to describe it beyond COMPLETELY INSANE. Seriously. Don’t watch the show if blood’s not your thing, but do go read the book because it’s unlike anything else I have ever encountered.

And again, there’s a theme of loving someone despite their crazy. Or occasionally because of their crazy.

And again, serious spoilers, but the only thing that is ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN for the entire book – and is being translated beautifully through the show so far – is that the only significant “couple”, if you will, love each other despite everything. Despite the fact that, y’know, one of them is technically dead for most of the relevant plotline. And made a bad life choice that kicks off the rollercoaster of crazy that her darling gets dragged through. And… SPOILERS, really.

She’s a hot mess (and aware of her status as such, but still a mess). He loves her anyways. It works. And there’s this one scene in the first ep of the show… I do not have words but again, puddle.

I’ve spent a lot of time over the last couple weeks wondering how to change myself so people will like me, and then this week’s TV-watching happened and I got multiple examples of people who are loved and treated well by their partners despite the fact that they’re… well… crazy.

Maybe I don’t need to hide what I am. Maybe I don’t need to put the weird shit on a very short leash. Maybe what I need is to embrace and revel in it.

Because someone out there, there might be someone wonderful who’s gonna fall in love with me anyways.

because clearly i needed another project…

…I’m starting an online boutique of women’s clothing and beauty products because goddamn, I would like to be able to find a site with cute//practical stuff that isn’t twee, pretentious, aimed at my mother’s age bracket, or some combination of those factors. But I have not, and I had a nice think about it last weekend and tapped into my problem-solving nature, and thus Hazel Morning was born.

It’s not quite open yet – am waiting for my first shipment of stuff to get here and then my sister will take some beautiful pics of me in it and then everything will get posted to the site and I’ll officially launch this beauty – but my infrastructure is in place. I bought a domain name, I registered with the IRS, I’ve figured out the Hazel Morning aesthetic, and I’ve started making connections with suppliers. Combine impulsive with resourceful and entrepreneurial and this is what ya get, apparently. I’m gonna keep the self-promotion to a dull roar here ’cause this is supposed to be my writing // personal blog, but oh my goodness I am excited!! There is so much potential for me to explore here and Hazel Morning life+style is going to be a brand new world of… well, I’m not totally sure yet, but hopefully some of you guys will join me in the journey. (Or at least offer sympathy when I rant about some of the weird “quirks” of getting into this business. Oooohboy.)

I have a vision here is all I’m sayin’. Hazel Morning is going to be a boutique for the millenial woman who just wants quiet, who’s done giving a damn what the world thinks of her, who wants to surround herself with soft things and soft people. For clothing, that means neutral // cool colors and functional styles – nothing backless, nothing shoulder-less, nothing unnecessarily revealing. For accessories… we’ll figure that out once my Etsy Wholesale account gets approved, but I’ve got a few hesitant ideas on that front. For beauty and personal care products, that means gentle scents and tasteful packaging and products that work. And for everything else… I’ll figure that out when I need to as well.

And now back to your regularly scheduled programming of “I blog because I don’t have the money for therapy and all of my friends are sick of listening to my bullshit”…

stressed out and full of love

It’s been one of those weekends. (Yeah, I know it’s Monday, but consider this a recap.) Person I’ve been talking to // have a major crush on continues to absolutely fail at texting, one of my close friends got his heart broken dramatically, it’s the five-year anniversary of a particular event I wish hadn’t happened the way it did, and hell, I’m stressed out. I have a con this coming weekend, I’m up to my ears in family drama, and I’m stressed out.

But as per usual, stress brings out the best in me. In this case, a few musings about how I show love and how the strangeness of my brain makes that better.

One of my main things is I worry about people. A lot. Like, if I care about someone, I probably obsessively worry about them on so many levels. I blame this on the fact that most of my people need to be worried about… and on my anxiety. Girl who gets worried about everything, meet cast of beautiful idiot friends who fail at finding other people to panic about them. I’ve tried to explain this to one of my darlings on several occasions – the main person who brings out this trait in me, and he knows damn well he’s special like that – and poor boy just does not get it. And funny thing is, this has actually gotten worse since I went back on meds. Like, I didn’t notice this trait was a thing and then antidepressant number two got added to my daily routine and all of a sudden…

Well…

Again, it kinda helps that most of my friends kinda need someone to panic about some of their questionable life choices. Sometimes I do point out that it’s their own fault. At least partially. But another equally significant part is all me.

In my brain, love means caring too much and getting clingy as hell and wanting to wrap my darlings up in blankets and bubble-wrap.

I’m protective and territorial sometimes. Back a few months ago, when I had a thing with a particular friend, I learned that the only situation in which I can flirt (or at least am aware that’s what I’m doing)… is when I’m trying to make sure another person doesn’t sink their claws into my person. Oooohboy. Didn’t know I did that either; still one of the funniest moments of the last year or so because the other person involved still has no clue what was going on. Nor does the innocent bystander who got to watch usually-quiet-and/or-extremely-bitchy me blossom into… someone I’m usually not. Freaking beautiful. I’m gonna write a story about that at some point, I think.

I make stuff for people. Literally my first thought after checking off some firsts with the ex-ish-creature I’m still friends with (I need to codename these people but the context of what I usually call them would be totally MIA here) was “I am going to make pretty fingerless gloves for this boy”. Yeah, you read that right – that is how my brain responded to discovering that I have a bit of a hand kink. Fast-forward six months to a similar situation with a different person and the main thought running through my head as I drove home afterwards was “if this blossoms, I’m knitting a sweater for this one”. I shower people in handmade squishies because if I can’t hug them as often as I’d like, I will give them the next best thing.

I need to find someone new to squish on asap. Guh. Hopefully I’ll be able to get a temporary fix at con this Saturday – I’m gonna get to see a super-badass girl I met at that particular event last year and hopefully tackle-hug her if she lets me and she’s not getting swarmed by other people admiring whatever costume she’s got on. And sometimes random people are affectionate if one says the right sweet things about their cosplay. So fingers crossed.

(I’ve basically ruled out cons as a dating pool – all I ever seem to crush on from that world are straight married girls, sigh – but let a girl dream here. Maybe someone of appropriate orientation will be super into what I’m running for this one. Maaaybe.)

Ah well. If nothing else, I’ve got a cat who likes to massage my thighs, nuzzle me for like a minute, and then do a flying leap off me in a way that makes me very thankful my reproductive organs are internal. That’s gotta count for something, right??

projects projects everywhere!!

Spring is blossoming and so is my creative mind. Unfortunately not so much with writing – I’m taking a short indefinite mental-health break from those ambitions – but so, so many new delights to flail about!!

First of all, the thing that’s only semi-new around here – cosplay. I’m still sticking with thrift-store-luck for my range, but I am going to be debuting my first truly “new” cosplay next weekend and I am VERY EXCITED FOR IT. (Especially because the dress I ended up getting *might* allow me to wear a bra instead of… other methods for not being inappropriate.) (Or maybe the fabric will be thick enough to conceal a potential nip-slip, idk. We’ll see.) I might end up doing a few modifications to that dress in the future, as well as getting a slightly better wig, but the initial version of my Laura Moon is going to debut and fingers crossed that goes well. There will likely be a post a few days after that con with pictures and reflections on being in public in rather minimal clothing, which might set off some of my insecurities but then again… idk. Lots of unknowns there. But on the other hand, I’m gonna cosplay my not-exactly-dead babe and it’s gonna be FUN.

(And I guess that’s another post I need to do, probably. Darn show hasn’t even aired yet and I’m already flailing. But then again, book’s existed for a while, and I’ve been lowkey flailing for like a year already, aaaaand maybe the insecurities are a little worse ’cause I’m literally twice the size of the actress who’s playing my current darling… which is a whole ‘nother animal… oooohboy.)

On the outside-life side of things, I’ve started a small side business of reselling formal dresses. Weird project, check, but it’s fun and fascinating. Hasn’t fully started to work yet, but I’m hopeful. And excuses to stare at pretty things are fun. And look at wedding dresses on Poshmark without getting a bad case of the sads. And… honestly, most bridesmaid dresses are not horrible. Or at least not the ones that people want to get rid of enough to sell them for under ten bucks. So that’s cool.

Aaaaand then research projects. Oh are there ever research projects.

I’ve been interested in tiny houses and earthships and stuff like that for a couple years, and I have decided that this year I’m gonna start actively taking steps forward towards possibly making that project happen. I feel like that’s where my life is leading me, and honestly… I’m already a bit eccentric, and potentially living in a tiny eclectic house in the middle of nowhere would just enhance the mystique. (That said, if anyone is aware of articles or blog posts or whatnot about tiny living with a cat or two… please give me links ’cause that’s a legit concern here.)

Also another beastie might be in the works, but that one is a ways further down the line. Enough potential to make me want to talk about it, but not enough for a reveal, lol.

So that’s what’s been going on in my world lately… and now back to your regularly scheduled misadventures of brooding twentysomething human disaster!!

Bubble-girl superpowers

As those of you who’ve been reading my ramblings for a while are well aware, I had a rather unconventional childhood. For the most part, on this blog I talk about the negative elements of growing up hella sheltered, but there are a few up-sides to the world that created me as well. Thus, a list of stuff that I am especially good at because of my time in the Bubble:

  1. predicting what my hypothetical children would look like if the other parent was… just about anybody I crush on, really. Although this may not be “I’m ex-Bubble” so much as “I have an active imagination and did really well in biology”, I still feel like it counts. The moment I catch the flutters for someone, I start envisioning the possible tiny humans, and I can’t wait for the day I get to see the results of that and get proved right.
  2. winning at “are they pregnant or just fat??”. I can tell. I can always tell. I also win at “are they pregnant or just haven’t figured out how to wear clothes that actually fit??”, which I would like to point out is usually harder.
  3. natural immunity to creeps. I’m not even sure how this works tbh, but sometimes having like zero understanding of normal social cues works out really well for me.
  4. running in just about any type of skirt. You say there’s no way anyone can move in a particular garment?? Watch. and. learn. “Impossible” does not apply here.
  5. speaking fluent good-girl-bitch. Aka the midwest version of southern-belle snark. If it sounds like a compliment, it’s probably not one.

hey look i did a thing!!

New short story published here. I wrote it at a very interesting time in my life (several years ago) and it’s got nothing to do with where I was at that point, and yet it’s… reflective. (Also super-virginal 20-year-old me wrote some pretty good Content, just sayin’.)

My goal this year was to try to get published more, and so far so good on that front. Fingers crossed eventually I’ll get publications that pay something…

(But hey, I’ve gotten two acceptances in the last ten days and I am SUPER FREAKING SQUEE ABOUT THAT, so I’m definitely doing better for myself than I have in the past, lol.)

necessary blood

Like countless millions of other people, I went to see Logan this past weekend. From that, I learned a few things:

  1. Hugh Jackman has put almost twenty years of his life into playing Wolverine. He deserved a good sendoff, and the movie delivered. I have a lot of personal respect for Mr. Jackman – he’s in a particular category of actors who’ve been in the business for decades and done a variety of high-profile films and yet still manage to live fairly normal lives and come across as decent humans and everyone who’s ever been anywhere near them talks about what a sweetheart they are – and I can only imagine how satisfying all of that must have been.
  2. Next time, check rating before seeing any movie with my parents. Especially if I’m absolutely sure it’s PG13. (For those unaware, Logan is rated R for blood, gore, and colorful swearing. But hey, there’s absolutely zero sexual content what-so-freaking-ever, so at least there wasn’t that kind of awkwardness.)
  3. There’s something weirdly satisfying about seeing an adorable preteen girl mimic some iconic maneuvers and action sequences. If you want to see a tiny terror kick serious tail in a way that’s still mindful of the fact that she is a child – read, absolutely zero sexualization whatsoever – this is the movie for you.
  4. For the first time, I saw something that normally would’ve triggered me, that I was not aware I would be seeing, and yet I was fine.

It’s that last bit that’s still making me feel things several days after seeing the film.

(minor spoilers ahead, but whatev)

About two-thirds of the way through the film, there’s a flashback sequence of sorts in which, for barely more than a heartbeat, cute little Laura cuts her wrist open with her claws. Mutations being as they are, she heals up instantly, and the narrative quickly moves on.

Normally, that little scene would’ve bugged me. Normally, I get very bitey about seeing self-harm in movies, and even more so when the person committing the act has a sheltered background. Preteen girl in medical experimentation facility should hit all my buttons. And yet it didn’t.

Maybe it helped that by that point, Laura had already expressed a personality without saying a word. Slightly sassy, a baby badass a few years from spreading her wings, curious about the world around her but also very guarded. Definitely a kid who’d try to make herself bleed just to prove that she could, or maybe just for the pleasure of watching her wounds heal up. Context is everything with troubling subjects, and this particular context made it work.

And it helped that about a third of the movie is Laura getting sweet, sweet vengeance against the monsters that created her. (Again, if you enjoy watching tiny humans replicate iconic action-movie maneuvers, Logan delivers.) She’s been victimized but she’s no victim. It makes a bit of sense that maybe she wanted to practice her powers on herself – no better way to do so, in her circumstances.

So several days later, I’m still feeling all the things, and I’m okay with that. Sometimes things stick with you. And sometimes, blood is necessary.