the trick is to keep breathing

So I am having a hard time dealing with this celebrity death. Which is incredibly awkward for me, because I severely dislike celebrity culture in all of its forms and all of its cultures and find admiration of celebrities weird at best and dumb at worst --- and yet, with very little actual fannish involvement on my side, I -- find myself torn up on this one.

Part of it is that she was a brutal advocate for mental illness normalization and a firm voice for feminism against judgment and ownership of womens' bodies; and, in combination, my personalization and respect for that.

Part of it is as a child, with Star-Wars-fan parents, Princess Leia was one of few lady icons I was given that I could relate to and would choose to embody in play with my brother and friends. (Keep in mind I came up in the 80s, in a family who deliberately grew me fierce, angry, and (actual quote) "one tough broad"; does it surprise anyone that I drastically, spasmodically embraced Rosa and (especially) Rydia in the first video game I played where women were fierce and did damage?)

Part of it IS that childhood nostalgia, because (the) Star Wars (trilogy) was our "family night" backup movie in the case that no one would agree; this movie series is a fundamental arterial vein in the blood of my family and my own history and development.

Part of it is her amazing script writing talent, and her incredibly self-deprecating amazing writing, and the way both of those things knit into my own psyche.

and Part of it is that literally the day before, my partner and I were hanging with my parents post-Christmas, and they knew (despite the fact he's 18 years older than me) he'd never seen the trilogy: so we watched the whole thing in one day, fueled by pot roast and wine and whiskey and more wine, and family feeling. Lots of feeling. Even if he fell asleep during the third one because it is literally against the laws of physics to keep this man awake during any given movie.

and literally The Next Day we were out for a lunch with my parents before we drove back to Ohio, and I happened to pull up my text messages, and discovered Carrie had passed away that day in 2016.

---

I am now watching Clone Wars, the periodical cartoon, in her honor; no matter that Princess/General Leia did not even exist in this time frame; I needed something that was related but wasn't her face: something to respect without it making me more tied-in with this celebrity - a tie-in I already found awkward - and making my own reaction less dealable; I am watching Clone Wars.

And I appreciate it now: there is a young lady as the protagonist --- yes, Anakin is the protagonist, in many ways; but the story is told through Ahsoka, a young badass fucking amazing and powerful padawan lady, and

right now it is what I need, to remind myself that any genre can spit out a powerful lady if it feels compelled to -- and with the bar set to General Leia, I should never expect less.

what the fuck am i even saying

Reasoning:

1. I make amazing money for my age and I should take advantage of that
2. I am in a good position: owning a house already, partnered but legally single, no dependents
3. I need my goddamn health insurance so cannot quit
4. I don't completely loathe what I do yet (it's more like a bipolar disorder relationship).

Plan:

• live well but frugally for the next 15 years
• enjoy the shit out of the next 15 years well but responsibly
• take good care of self and health
• pay off house
• save well
• retire at 50.
• become actual hermit
• spend rest of life writing and giving the world the middle finger
• become millionaire
• replace body with wheels
• profit

15 more years at my job gives me the new plant I want - covers everything from engineering to actually flipping the switch to development projects - as well as turnover to build a dynasty (not that I am arrogant BUT I AM but really it's to protect the years invested in the place): I'd literally hit the peak of my career then leave. and, if I work it right, lots of company buffing of my 401k.

50 will be a bit old on my poor broken body, but it's still an age you can do most things: travel, hobbies, open a bar with your friends, etc

The counter-thought is "take your break now" but I'm not in any kind of position health-wise to do so: need insurance, so need (a) job; this job has good/decent insurance; not good at traveling right now; too much house debt to really call off the paychecks. Trust me, it's tempting to toss everything and run to the woods, but it isn't a good place.

But working towards something makes the working seem slightly more palatable

1^0 edit I FORGOT TO MENTION what I want to do with my millions: I want to be a patron of the arts and sciences.

One of the things that sticks out in my memory from my Germany trip - touring an old palace - it's so weird that this was significant - but I was doing the headphones tour of Queen Sophie's palace and there was so much discussion about how royalty and the well-off were patrons -- of arts, sciences, literature, voyages, anything they wanted. It is this weird mindset - and ok I know that historical context etc life was NOT A MAGICAL BETTER BACK IN THAT CENTURY - but in our evolution to what we are now we have really and truly lost that spirit? Rich people don't go and support artists they personally think are cool anymore, or host salons for neat artists to get together, or sponsor someone to write a symphony or a novel, and --- there's something about that concept that really appeals to me.

So after my job and my novels and my millions, I plan to become a patron of the arts and sciences. If you can wait 15 years, you all get first dibs.

2^0 edit im not even drunk guys, seriously

"This is my I-don't-care face."
"...that's your normal face."

Today's chore log:
- two rounds of dishes
- cleaned kitchen
- emptied fridge
- washed spots on floor and walls
- spot steam-cleaned carpet
- rearranged living rm on trial basis
- sorted mail & bills
- arranged my prescription refills
- two loads of laundry
- sorted random clothes
- one round of closet purge
- litter boxes
- wrote 1200 words

Helper evidence here.

No, I have no idea where it came from either. May it stick around all week.

I just got really depressed about something stupid that's over anyway and I've dumped 3500 words into the next chapter of this in a fit of depressive coping that is probably better than drinking 2 bottles of wine but I might need a glass of wine because it's bedtime and I am too worked up (or not worked up, since that's depression for you) to sleep so I'm going to go write another tragic 3500 words of this bullshit

so here you go, guys, have my fucking shame therapy story


Count the Saints (6407 words) by seventhe
Chapters: 1/?
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Characters: James Potter, Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Harry Potter, Peter Pettigrew, Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Albus Dumbledore
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Lily is a badass, remus and sirius figure it out, trash - Freeform, Marauders, Marauders-centric
Summary:

Peter Pettigrew's surprising actions on Halloween of 1981 have given the Order of the Phoenix a brief but much-needed respite - and advantage, if they are brave enough to press it. Voldemort lives, and the prophecy about Harry still stands, but -- for a brief moment in 1981, it feels like anything is possible.

(AU in which Peter remembers he's Gryffindor after all, James and Lily live, and Sirius and Remus resolve their suspicions. War!AU fic, focusing closely on the Marauders.)