Anonymous asked: You're like...vodka tia Moran. It's neat
I am literally changing my description to vodka tia Moran, I have no idea what I did to earn this title but I immediately and unironically love it.
Anonymous asked: I've been doing a lot of reading on the Borgias but I don't actually know how to pronounce "Borgia- would you know?
So…I pronounce it the way they say it in the show, which is BOHR-jya (or something like -zhya if you like your IPA pronunciations I guess). It’s with a soft G, kind of slurred. Like the last G in ‘garage.’
Anonymous asked: Quick question. How does one actually make a resume? I need to get another job and no one in my family is being helpful about it even though it will be our main source of income and I havent technically had to build a resume since 2015 and I am freaking out a little bit.
Okay…not gonna lie my dude, my resume is pretty thin on the ground (I’m in college), but LET’S SEE WHAT WE’VE GOT. (Also I am procrastinating my thesis which is VERY MUCH DUE IN TWO MONTHS, so take my life advice with, like, a fistful of salt.)
First, take a couple deep breaths. Everyone has to learn how to do the resume thing. You’re not alone in feeling out of your depth, I’m on a campus of 400 right now and every single person agrees with you.
So, okay, the main point of a resume is to sell yourself. The most important thing here is that you probably have to balance truth with…generous exaggeration. Obviously don’t claim you can do something you don’t know how to do, because that’ll bite you in the ass. But hey, do you make photosets or gifsets for Tumblr? You are a Photo Editor, slap that shit on your Skills section. This post talks some more about how millennials and people who’ve grown up in the Internet Age have the edge on that. Make sure to lean on your ability to learn new skills–I am an Excel expert not so much because I took a class on Excel, but because over the summer I attended a research fellowship where everyone sucked at Excel. So I Googled a motherfucker and now I’m real good at Excel and teaching my biochem teacher how to do a double-reciprocal plot. If you don’t know how to do something now, you can definitely learn–pitch that. This post has some more stuff about learning to sell yourself. Master the elevator pitch for why you yourself are great for the job. If you’re like me, you’ll probably have to tell your anxiety and self-esteem issues to suck a dick every five minutes, BUT DO IT ANYWAY. You are great. Your resume is intended to inform the rest of the world of this incontrovertible truth.
NOW. The resume itself. Some basics of the resume structure include:
Cover letter (this is your opening pitch–make it good, especially since an employer might have hundreds of resumes on their desk) (this is the WikiHow page, which has some good examples for format)
Resume body (this can be chronological, meaning listed by date, which is more traditional and will appeal more to older readers, functional, meaning listed by task, which is more practical for someone who’s either been out of work or who’s changing careers, or combination, which is pretty much what it says on the tin)
Experience/Skills (THIS IS YOUR TIME TO SHINE, USE THOSE TWO POSTS UP THERE AND ALSO THIS ONE, INCLUDE PROFESSIONAL SKILLS AND ALSO INTERPERSONAL SKILLS) (YOU’RE GREAT–REMIND THEM)
Activities (YES THIS INCLUDES EXTRACURRICULARS) (THIS CAN EVEN INCLUDE D&D)
Education (include the where and when, also your GPA might help if you did really well)
Awards, if applicable (I myself do not have anything whatsoever to put here, but if you do, props, do it)
Personal Interests (look dude, if they’ve gotten this far, they want to know if they could tolerate working with you–this is your opportunity to convince them)
This is a good walkthrough on formats for all those various sections.
Iiiii think that’s what I’ve got, pretty much. IDK man resume-writing is the literal worst and I feel for you, BUT I HOPE THIS HELPED.
Anonymous asked: 7 and whoever you want
7: I do not believe in love at first sight. But god damn. (Look at you.)
Two things. First, it’s a very dangerous thing to say ‘whoever I want,’ because I go straight for the niche fandoms that I love the most. Thus: Animorphs. Second! It has come to my attention that I accidentally swapped two prompts—this line is actually prompt 17, and prompt 7 got used for the Sith!Padme AU. Because I’m a fucking disaster area and my brain likes to pull switches like that on me. (Math classes suck for this exact reason.) But like the Sith!Padme AU is done? And I was halfway through this by the time I realized, so I am VERY sorry but I’m doing this.
Tobias could give you the exact moment he fell in love with Rachel, as a bruised thirteen-year-old kid in a body he barely remembered. Love at first sight was a fairy tale, but he could give every detail of the moment—it was like light being struck from a match, casting everything in a fresh glow.
Admittedly, he remembered everything about that night in the construction site, about Elfangor’s serious eyes and Visser Three’s terrible morph and the desperate giddy feeling in his chest of yes, yes, I knew it, there’s more to this world. Which made a lot more sense, in retrospect, but of course at the time he just knew that something had clicked into place. While everyone else was standing around being awestruck and wondering, Tobias had been too busy feeling a wash of relief that, oh God, he wasn’t crazy, there really was something else and it was exactly as spectacular as he had always believed it would be.
But even in that chaos, Rachel had been like a beacon.
He’d had a crush on her from the moment he arrived in town, of course, but then he could guarantee that about every boy at their school agreed with him, save the ones who were related to her. He could list five girls off the top of his head who were probably head over heels for Rachel, having a crush on her wasn’t anything special. She was clever and funny and fierce, her beautiful face was almost an afterthought.
And Tobias had needed something bright and strong to hold onto, and just being around Rachel, in the line of her sharp eyes, was a good start.
So it never did shock him, that he was in love with her.
It wasn’t her grip on his hand as they watched Elfangor die, although he was sure everyone would be shocked to hear it. That was just…Rachel, scared half to death and still with strength and ferocity to spare. She clutched his hand because it made her feel better, to steady someone else, and God Tobias had needed it. He’d almost bolted right then, run back to the Andalite’s side, because he barely had a life to live anyway and he’d felt something from Elfangor’s thoughts he’d never felt before. Some messy tangle of regret and pride and grief, all centered around a bright hard thing that made affection look like small fry. The loss of it hurt like broken glass in Tobias’ throat, sharp and bloody. And it was Rachel’s grip on his hand as he cried that kept Tobias hidden behind the wreckage, kept him sane enough to live through the night.
But it was later, that it really hit him.
They were running and, at the time, Tobias had desperately wished for wings. It was almost funny, now, but probably only to him—he’d never told the others how often he wished he could fly away, before he got a new appreciation for the dangers of wishes.
Here was something else the others never knew: he had three cracked ribs that night. There was no way, even with adrenaline pumping ice through his blood, that he would be able to outrun the Hork-Bajir on their tail. Tobias’ forgotten human body was tall, but skinny and out of shape, not strong like Cassie or fast like Jake, he was slow and hurt and shocky. And he had a moment of strange clarity, as if he could see the future as clearly as the Ellimist ever showed it to them. He would die, and it would be awful, but the others would live and that would be…good. They had people who would miss them, and he didn’t. They would live to fight the Andalite’s war, maybe save the world, and Tobias would get to rest.
And then Rachel, tall, athletic Rachel who could probably have outpaced every last one of them, even Jake, slowed, and dropped back. She was shouting, arms outstretched with a wild, ecstatic look of challenge on her face. Tobias could only catch about one word in three, but they were…vivid.
That was the moment. Tobias, tearing across the rough ground of the construction site with impossibility on his heels. Rachel, screaming curses in death’s face in order to protect the people she cared about. It was more like being struck by lightning than anything so polite as falling in love, but.
Goddamn.
Anonymous asked: please, what is "gaslighting"?
Okay, this is a good question, I’m going to try to be clear.
So, gaslighting is fundamentally a method of psychological abuse intended to make the victim question their own sanity. The word’s been in use for about a century, common since about the 60′s, originating with a 1938 stage play called Gas Light featuring a woman whose husband would manipulate small parts of their environment (notably the gas lights in their house) and then insist to her and to everyone else that she was remembering incorrectly, mistaken, or outright delusional. Gaslighting basically means telling someone with absolute confidence that you’re right and their memory is flawed, and you’d be surprised how damaging it can be to a person. It’s a terrifying experience, to believe you can’t trust your own mind, and it makes an abuse victim a much easier target. It’s considered something of a hallmark of psychological abuse–so much so that it’s used in brainwashing techniques.
For example:
Sue* invites Jane over to her house for a playdate. Let’s assume they’re ten or so–old enough to ‘know better.’ Jane brings a doll, and Sue likes the doll very much. At the end of the playdate, Jane goes to pick up her doll and take it home, and Sue starts crying and won’t let go of Jane’s doll.
“This is my doll, I want it back,” says Jane.
“This is MY doll and you’re lying!” Sue shouts. “You’re trying to steal it from me!”
“No, I’m not,” Jane says, “I brought this doll here in the first place.” She’s confused, because she knows the doll is hers, but Sue is her friend and, normally, Jane would trust her word.
Sue insists that the doll is hers, and starts screaming for her mother. Sue’s mother shows up and wants to know what’s wrong.
“Jane’s trying to steal my doll!” Sue cries.
Sue’s mother looks at the doll and knows that Sue doesn’t own it, she remembers seeing Jane bring the doll over, but she says, “Jane, give Sue her doll back and stop lying.”
“I’m not lying!” Jane says, starting to cry. She remembers bringing the doll over, she remembers getting it for Christmas, she remembers all this, but…Sue and Sue’s mother seem awfully sure. And Sue’s mother is a grown-up. “It’s my doll!”
Sue’s mother reaches down and picks up the doll and looks at it. “I remember buying this for Sue,” the mother says, looking disappointed down at Jane. “I can’t believe you would lie about something like this.”
“I’m not lying,” Jane insists, crying harder.
“Then you’re imagining it,” Sue’s mother says, handing the doll back to Sue. “Don’t be such a baby, stop crying. And get your imagination under control.”
Sue, doll in hand, immediately stops crying. She smiles at Jane, and says, “Or maybe you’re just crazy.”
Names/toy in question have been changed
Or, alternatively:
Yam-In-Chief: My inauguration was yuuuge, biggest inauguration in history.
Media: Um? No? No it wasn’t?
Yam-In-Chief: Yes it was!
Media: It literally wasn’t, we can prove it, look, we have photographic evidence and statistics.
Yam-In-Chief: You’re fake news! You’re lying to the American public!
Media: ??????????
So, on the subject of resisting gaslighting: trust yourself. If you believe you can’t, if for example you suffer hallucinatory experiences that make you uncertain, find someone whose report of the past you do trust. Or, barring that, write it down somewhere you can keep safe and look at it if you feel like you’re being lied to.
Hope this was helpful, sweetheart!
Anonymous asked: I am marching in Atlanta today! Stay safe and fuck shit up!!!
Sorry for the delay, but I hope the Atlanta march went well! The DC march was…wow, something else, I can tell you that much. It was incredible to see so many people turn out for something they believe in. I feel a little better about the whole situation after watching us flood the National Mall.
Anonymous asked: I'm so stressed right now because my family is making me go to a celebrate Trump party and I have to act like the perfect straight conservative daughter that I'm not and I dont know how I'm going to live with this and I have zero choice in the matter
Oh, sweetheart. Oh, baby, I wish to God I could give you a hug and promise I could protect you from this whole disaster. But I can’t, and I wish I could tell you something that would magically make it easier to get through this, but I can’t do that either.
So here’s this. You are not wrong in your beliefs. You are not wrong in your identity. Your parents might not know, or they might not agree, or they might even believe they can ‘fix’ you, but you don’t need to be fixed, I promise you. You are not alone, facing this, even if it might feel otherwise.
And that’s the critical part, I think. The power in an administration like Trump’s comes from making people like you, and like me, people who stand in a minority, feel alone. It comes from making us believe that we are facing an unstoppable onrushing tide, with no one to help us or hold us up when we falter, because it is so easy to trample over a single frightened person. And it is so easy, when you’re that single frightened person, to crumple.
But you’re not alone, sweetheart. You’re not. Our greatest strength for the next four years is our unity. We stand together, hand in hand, and we do not abandon one another to the tide, we work together to pile up sandbags against it. So you’ll live through this, sweetheart. I promise. With me, and with hundreds of thousands of others around the world. We won’t let you be swept away.
Take a hand, sweetheart, and do not go gentle into that good night.
Anonymous asked: you're really freaking cute when you're happy/enthused about things!
YOU’RE REALLY FREAKING CUTE ALWAYS ANON, WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO ABOUT THAT, CHECKMATE.
Sorry, I got nervous.
Anonymous asked: So how was Rogue One?
MY G O D IT WAS A BLESSING AND A GIFT UNTO US ALL.
In all seriousness, though, I loved it. It couldn’t have been better designed for me if they tried. Brutal honesty about Doing What Needs To Be Done, desperate people fighting desperate wars, shouting matches between allies with laser-targeted accusations and grief-driven sharp tongues, bloody hands and buried sins.
Basically, look, okay, here: if you read and liked the entire Animorphs series, this will be your jam. If you prefer your heroes to be unsullied and clean (which, no judgement), maybe not. But seriously, give it a try.
A couple other things:
- “Fiercely competent anti-fascist space Latinx with a robot best friend” is my new favorite weirdly specific trope, see also: Poe Dameron
- Jyn Erso grows so much over the movie she’s my daughter and I love her
- I want to wrap Bodhi Rook in blankets and put him down in front of Fantasia and cuddle him and feed him chocolate until he’s Happy, I’m a simple woman with simple needs
- Darth Vader is so hilariously Extra
- Krennic’s cape is a fucking tragedy
- “Welcome home” *bawls*
- Baze and Chirrut are married and have been for like thirty years, sorry I don’t make the rules
Anonymous asked: Thank you thank you thank you for the E/R fluff! I'm grinning like an idiot.
Eep, I’m so glad you like it!
