World Visit’s here! I’m working on preparing the next Cathedral Chats and the promised Growers’ Conference for Greening Coerthas as planned (hopefully both in May, maybe late), and I look forward to minglin’ with all you Crystal folk.

I do have a depressing confession to make, though.

For quite some time now – maybe as early as 4.1, though maybe even with portents in late Heavensward – I’ve not been feeling great about the direction FFXIV is turning, while at the same time I was struggling to sustain RP though 2018. I was expecting that the Starlight Feast in Ala Mhigo would be my last event and that I’d wind down Greening Coerthas after that. However, the announcement of Ishgard reconstruction and farming at November FanFest re-energized me, and I was excited for Shadowbringers.

Since then, all the news has been bad, and now the trends look even worse than I had been fearing before. Having taken the past few months to brood and reflect, I’m pretty sure now that FFXIV is becoming – perhaps has already become – a game that isn’t enjoyable for me. Aesthetics, story, lore, progression have all drifted away from what attracted me to the game back in 2.5. Doesn’t mean I think they’re now bad – I know my preferences will put me in a teeny minority of the players for any game – but they’re not for me, to the point that the little niche my tiny minority enjoyed doesn’t really exist anymore.

I’m so heartbroken. I loved this game. I’m grieving the loss heavily.

I’m not quite quitting, though. I still plan to get and play the beginning of Shadowbringers – solely for Ishgard reconstruction and farming, hah – and then probably at the end of 2019 evaluate if I should continue. So, like I mentioned: Cathedral Chats and the Growers’ Conference will still happen (though I may reduce the number of planned Chats to give myself less stress and workload), and my characters will still be around to RP with. And I’d love to meet ‘n’ chat with all of you, including new people from Crystal! Every time I take a character out for a spin it makes me really happy. But I’m not sure I can in good conscience commit to long-term plot arcs anymore, nor is it really practicable for me to be deep in event-running when a lot of days I can’t even log in without dread and disappointment.

My heart is heavy, and I’ll be grieving for a long time. But, having gotten a head start on that grieving process, I can also look back at some of the memories with joy and pride. (Such pride! I think I’ve done some of my life’s best writing so far for Rosaire.) What a wonderful time it’s been. I only wish it could be longer – and perhaps it could still be, if the course of the game changes someday in the future and the things that once drew me in come back.

But for now I plan to pull back and put more energy into work, art, and other RP. You can still reach me by Tumblr and by Discord (send me a Tumblr message if you’d like to be Discord friends!) to arrange RP or just say hello! I also expect to continue maintaining my lore compilations at least through the end of this year, and I plan to keep them up forever, so don’t worry about those disappearing.

Thank you for being great RP partners, friends, and neighbors. Even if it ends up shorter than I could wish, our time together’s been an incredible, splendid gift.

the notes & tags on this post are. something else. HOW do you infer “tumblr user non-bi-narism thinks you should be 50/50” from that post. genuinely how. ppl assuming things about how i experience attraction to men and women (none of their business) and being condescending to me for no reason. finally that one person who said they were “glad i grew up in an accepting environment and am thus secure in my bisexuality (unlike them)” when i am a stranger on the internet they know nothing about (like. lol. has it never crossed your mind that assuming a strangers’ traumatic history / lack thereof and condescending to them about it is like. rude at the very least?). seriously what is it w that post and ppl who want to condescend to me that actually making pie charts for your bisexuality is the only way to be bisexual and i am just a privileged 50/50 or something. i didn’t even say you shouldn’t say you have preferences, just that you don’t have to.

So apparently tumblr has changed the dashboard image dimensions from 500 width to 540 width. This particularly affects me because I generally use a mspaint/oekaki style of drawing which usually looks awful when resized. This would be fine except profiles are still set to 500 so if a 540 width image will look crisp and sharp on the dash, but blurry and shitty on my profile page. It’s maddening. Is there anyway I can fix this? If I could just go to the edit html page and copy/paste something to change the max image width on my profile that would be just swell.

zekedms:

willowcrowned:

willowcrowned:

Maybe it’s just because I’m Jewish but I do truly believe that life gets ten times better when you learn to complain cheerfully

I think a part of it is that it lets you acknowledge that something sucks, which is actually really good in a culture that wants us to pretend that everything is fine and we’re soldiering through all the time. Like, no, my grocery bag breaking and spilling all over the floor is not fine. I’ve had a long day and I’m really upset and on the verge of tears because I can’t handle one more thing and pretending like it’s fine only means breaking down later.

But if you let yourself complain, if you let yourself swear terribly and creatively, and you stare down at the bruised vegetables like they’ve personally disappointed you, and you make yourself smile because this is really just so, so stupid, you feel a little better. There’s a power to acknowledging that something sucks and making yourself feel better anyways. There’s a power to going “and THEN my bag broke, and it’s like—seriously? my day was bad enough” and doing it with a smile.

You shouldn’t have to pretend things are fine when they aren’t. You shouldn’t have to force yourself to smile through things that make you feel terrible. But if you can make yourself laugh by staring down at some strawberries that have decided to revolt, and give them a lecture on why they’re just terrible, really, and that makes you smile—then maybe that’s a good thing.

I cannot overstate how freeing it can be to simply say “oh fuck off” at the object that falls off your counter of its own volition after you spent 10 minutes preventing items from falling off and breaking on they other side.

OP is so right about the power of laughing at your misfortune.

My mother used to tell me all the time that I should try not to complain so much. (I bet she’d still tell me that, if I saw her more often.) She would always frame it as “no one will want to hang out with you” (also implied: “date you/marry you”, etc) if I complained all the time. She didn’t want me to end up alone. She would always say, “You don’t complain like this around your friends, right? I mean, it’s fine when it’s just me, but you can’t just do nothing but this with other people. You know that, right?”

And I’d say, “No! Of course not!” Which was maybe a half truth. I mean, when your mom calls you and asks how life’s going, and you could use a vent, then of course mom’s going to hear a higher than average number of complaints. But my friends and I had other interests, obviously. I get where she’s coming from, I do. If your first impression of someone is that they complain about EVERYTHING, that they find fault with everything, and that’s their main way of interacting with the world, then yeah, of course, that person’s a Negative Nancy and no one likes a malcontent.

But my partner and I have found equal ground in our complaining. We’ll happily whine about anything. We’re not complaining about each other (*key difference here!) but about whatever’s currently being a pain. We allow and even indulge these complaints. It is extremely comforting to have someone who’ll let you whine, but not judge you for it, or roll their eyes, or tell you “it’s not that bad”, “buck up”, “just try not to think about it”, or “just do it anyway”. It’s a solid brick in our relationship wall. I do not take it for granted.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about where I am with my publishing ‘career’ and how I want to go forward, how I want to build it.

I keep circling back around and around to an idea best summarized as “too poor to have standards”

Which are words I fucking hate. I hate with every fiber of my soul even writing them, which is why I’ve been stewing over it for two months before setting fingers to keys to make a post like this.

It is the antithesis of everything I’ve tried to build my life around. I might live in abject poverty, but I have standards. I try to eat well, and spend quite a lot of time cooking from scratch to put good and interesting foods on the table. I try to dress well–out of thrift stores and free boxes. I try to write well, with an eye toward bringing goodness and joy into the world. I try to treat others well, with kindness and compassion.

I try.

I have tried to be choosy about where I publish my work.

For reasons I won’t rehash here ([link the first]and[link the second]) I decided to stop submitting my writing to LT3 press. I look at those old posts, and I do not regret that choice from a moral standpoint. I made the only call I felt I could in the situation.

And yet… LT3 was the best source of money I had. No other press has come close to matching what I could make when I was submitting to them. When I was selling them stories, I was putting money into my surgery fund–the carefully hoarded stock of pennies that will someday (if I am lucky) allow me to get a gender confirmation surgery to alleviate my dysphoria.

When I stopped selling to LT3, I stopped being able to.

And so here I am. Looking at how good a press LT3 is on paper. They publish a wide variety of queer genres with lots of representation. They pay their authors well and on time. They have good covers. They have editors that are good to work with. They come out with interesting anthologies and collection calls that never fail to make me go 'ooh, I could write–’

They just, sometimes, have catastrophic oversight issues. And I don’t know if things have gotten better or worse on that front since I stopped submitting, because I stopped buyingfrom them at the same time. I don’t know.

Right now, I find myself beginning a draft of a novella for their new “Creature Feature” collection call, torn in two directions. I want to stick by my guns.

I also want to be able to buy myself nice teas to drink, and put money in my surgery fund, and make frivolous purchases maybe once or twice a year.

I’m too fucking poor to have standards.

things I’m tired of on tv shows:

~ the white man always being the hero

~ few women-only scenes when a majority of the show is made up of men-only scenes

~ cheap “diversity” aka having a leading white cishet man, an emotional white woman, and poc on the main team with minor roles and stereotyped personalities, and one gay couple.

~ recycled plot lines. for example, death in paradise always has the authoritive white man having a crush on the a woman working below him

I think one of the worst things of “adult life” is doing paperwork.

zekedms:

willowcrowned:

willowcrowned:

Maybe it’s just because I’m Jewish but I do truly believe that life gets ten times better when you learn to complain cheerfully

I think a part of it is that it lets you acknowledge that something sucks, which is actually really good in a culture that wants us to pretend that everything is fine and we’re soldiering through all the time. Like, no, my grocery bag breaking and spilling all over the floor is not fine. I’ve had a long day and I’m really upset and on the verge of tears because I can’t handle one more thing and pretending like it’s fine only means breaking down later.

But if you let yourself complain, if you let yourself swear terribly and creatively, and you stare down at the bruised vegetables like they’ve personally disappointed you, and you make yourself smile because this is really just so, so stupid, you feel a little better. There’s a power to acknowledging that something sucks and making yourself feel better anyways. There’s a power to going “and THEN my bag broke, and it’s like—seriously? my day was bad enough” and doing it with a smile.

You shouldn’t have to pretend things are fine when they aren’t. You shouldn’t have to force yourself to smile through things that make you feel terrible. But if you can make yourself laugh by staring down at some strawberries that have decided to revolt, and give them a lecture on why they’re just terrible, really, and that makes you smile—then maybe that’s a good thing.

I cannot overstate how freeing it can be to simply say “oh fuck off” at the object that falls off your counter of its own volition after you spent 10 minutes preventing items from falling off and breaking on they other side.

OP is so right about the power of laughing at your misfortune.

Me all the time

I don’t like that both twitter and tumblr post ads on our profiles but don’t pay us the ad revenue. keep that shit to the tl

actual thing that happened today

so my gf and i broke up a little bit ago and it’s been super awkward cuz we are in the same friend group but we are both still super upset. so today i was like hey are we going to get dinner and my friend was like oh [insent ex-gf’s name here] is going to get chicken, we will just steal it from her and i was just like

what am i supposed to do, steal chicken from my ex-gf who i haven’t talken to in a week. just be like “hey, i’m still mad at you, but i’m really fucking hungry-can i have some chicken” like no

types of complainers

Draco: complains so much but at the end of the day will finish the job

Hermione: doesnt complain, finds people who do annoying

Ron: complains a lot and doesnt do anything about it

Harry: doesnt know how to complain because of child abuseTM

“Nobody can find them anywhere,” this customer explains, “It’s like nobody makes them anymore. Those wonderful cool, crisp percale sheets. They’re just so cold when you first get into bed, and crisssp. Those wonderful 50/50 blends… and they never wrinkle. You just can’t find them anymore.”

“Well, we do sell percale sheets. They are 100% cotton though; we don’t sell any cotton polyester blend sheets, and the nature of percale weaves is that they will wrinkle.”

“Noo, I don’t want sheets that wrinkle.”

“The only sheets we sell that don’t wrinkle are the cotton sateen sheets.”

“Oh, I hate sateen. They’re too soft and they’re warm. Why doesn’t anybody make those wonderful crisp cool percales anymore? There’s SO MANY people looking for them. You wouldn’t believe it, but there’s a whole [web]page full of people looking for real percale sheeting! A whole PAGE!”

I’m honestly picturing this woman looking online and finding only one website where old ladies are talking about the percale sheets their mothers used and how they can’t find those types of sheets anywhere.

“We do have customers who prefer percales because they’re cooler and crisper than the sateen weaves. Most of our customers seem satisfied with our Italian percales or organic cotton percale sheets. However, they do wrinkle.”

“But I don’t want them to wrinkle!”

“Well, this is what we sell. Our only wrinkle free sheet is the cotton sateen, which is why that sheeting line is our most popular bedding collection. The only way to get a wrinkle free percale is to purchase a cotton/poly blend, and we only sell all cotton sheeting. That’s what our customer want. They’ve become very wary of synthetic fibers and chemicals, so the majority of our customers demand all natural fiber blends for our fabrics. This is why we carry the selection we carry.”

“But I want those cool crisp percales. I’m one of your customers.”

“Then I recommend you look into our Italian percales. It’s the closest in texture to the sheets (she brought in pillowcases of the sheets she’s trying to replace) you’re looking for.”

“I bet everything here is made in China, too.”

“Actually, we have percales that are made in Italy (I just fucking told you this… we don’t call it “Italian Percale” for shits and giggles), our organic percale is made in Portugal, we carried sheets made in France and Pakistan, etc…”

“Ooo, where are your French percales?”

“We don’t have any right now. We’ve carried them in the past - usually only in patterned styles.” I show her the style we currently have that’s made in Pakistan that is a near exact comparison between it and the French style.

“So, this one is made in France?”

“No, this one is made in Pakistan. It’s unchanged from how the original French sheeting in this pattern feels. Whenever I have customers looking for a classic, crisp percale, they usually prefer this texture.” She feels the fabric, hums, hahs, and finally agrees that she likes it.

“Where are your sheets like this?”

“We only have this pair of pillowcases. It’s a current item in our catalog, and since we’re an outlet we usually won’t get these new patterns unless they’re returned from catalog orders or discontinued.”

“Where are the regular sheets from France?”

“By regular do you mean solid colors?”

She looks at me like I’m stupid… so I continue, “We don’t carry the French fabric in solids. We only occasionally have it with seasonal patterns. If you want a solid color, I recommend the Italian percale. It’s the closest in texture to these pillowcases.” I show her a discontinued brown pillowcase in the Italian percale pointing out, “We’re no longer producing this color, so we’ve marked it down for clearance. It’s $29 from $79.”

“Do you have that in any other colors?”

“Yes, but those other colors are still current and therefore full price at $79.”

“Well, I can see why that color is marked down. It’s awful.” Beggars can’t be choosers, woman. She goes on complaining, “Oh, why don’t they make those wonderful percales anymore? It’s not like nobody wants them. There’s a whole page of people looking for them! Even on facebook - people keep saying they have to go to yard sales to find those perfect percale sheets. Imagine it - YARD SALES!”

I finally get her over to the register. She’s decided to get the percale pillowcase from Pakistan, but she’s still grumbling about the price and how she’s worried these aren’t going to be the most wonderful pillowcases ever… “If you’re unhappy with them,” I reassure her, “just hang onto your receipt, and you’ll have thirty days to return the pillowcases and get your money back.” She purchases the pillowcases, and keeps mumbling her way out the door how nobody makes wonderful percales sheets anymore that are cool, crisp, and never wrinkle…

Commenter: very good story, may I suggest that Stiles finds a very old book, with powerful spells, that sends him back in time, and stop Kate from burning the Hale house, and kills Kate with his amazing magical powers.

Me: I think you have the wrong story. Stiles doesn’t feature in this story at all.

Commenter: well he was already a small kid, 8 or 9, when his beloved mom died and the Hale fire happened.

Me: I suppose he could be magical in this story since Chris has someone ward Peter’s room to protect him from hunters, but I don’t think time travel is something Stiles will want to mess with (or more likely, is warned off from trying). I wrote the story I wanted. Why don’t you try your hand at the story you’ve come up with?

~ * ~

If you ever wondered what kind of comment I don’t like on my stories: this is it.

Honestly, this comment comes off as trying to get me to rewrite my story to better suit the commenter’s tastes. And that’s just rude.

I wrote the story I wanted to. I really did. I’m pleased with how it turned out. I don’t need someone hopping on and saying, “Continue it in [a way that I really don’t write or don’t enjoy writing].”

I feel like maybe I’m blowing this out of proportion, but I truly did not appreciate the way this comment comes off as begging for more story, especially by inserting comments that, to me, proved they read the wrong story all along or maybe didn’t read it at all. Or hadn’t read my other works, which makes me question their need to comment and respond to my comment on this story.

I love getting comments, don’t get me wrong. I just don’t appreciate someone reading a story that I’ve completed and have no intention of revisiting, much less in the involved way the commenter suggests, only to receive something to the effect of “More now” as a comment.

(And to add insult to injury, they did not leave kudos–yes, now I’m being petty.)

I would love to not have to do work on the only day and a half off I get a week. That would be awesome