tom n peter read anneke
I want to hug them. Maybe eat them. I don’t even know what anneke is, and I don’t care. Why did I stop crushing on Peter Davison? That was silly.
I don’t know what is going on in this daguerreotype, but I like it.
Clearly this man was a time-traveller.
This is what happens when steampunk fans time travel. Bless, he’s trying so hard.
I WANT THEM
Dear future boyfriend: Wear these. Often.
These make me think of Chess Pargeter.
W00F.
And men say they don’t have fancy options like women.
Sweden’s Bunkers
With no domestic sources of fossil fuels (well – except for wood of course), there has always been a push in Sweden to go for local sources of energy. A fairly large number of reasonably sized rivers made hydropower an interesting alternative and large installations were made in the early 1900s. The main railways in Sweden were electrified from 1914 and onwards and at the time of WWII, a substantial coverage had been achieved by international standards. Today some > 95% of the rail transport effort is done with electric traction.
I usually avoid reblogging the things Tumblr pimps at me on principal, but as well as being fairly cool looking… there are totally some ewoks and storm troopers just around the corner from that top one, right?
For #phxcc this year, I decided to cosplay as Hipster Ariel, because I own this t-shirt and wanted to do something obscure.
When I got my photo taken with Wil Wheaton…
…he realized the connection between my shirt and the Little Mermaid wig, made the best omfg! face, and said I was his “favorite font troll ever.” It was the highlight of my Comicon.
And today he tweeted about it and made my day all over again. Thanks for remembering, Wil! :)
I dyed my hair, as Twitter commanded
More carroty than true red, but better that than pink, wot?
I guess that’s me coming as close as I come to a classic MySpace shot. I gave up after this and switched to the timer function:
Note to self: sucking in your double-chin just makes you look crazy.
That’s better. I still want to go proper red, but it’s difficult with the temporary hair-dyes. I like my natural colour too much (and having long hair too much) to go permanent, but it;s fun to mess around once in a while.
Also: check it, I trimmed my hair and re-instituted the side-swipe I had slightly let grow out. Think I took a bit too much off the rest, but what the hey, it’s neater and it was free, as all the best haircuts are.
Depression is humiliating. It turns intelligent, kind people into zombies who can’t wash a dish or change their socks. It affects the ability to think clearly, to feel anything, to ascribe value to your children, your lifelong passions, your relative good fortune. It scoops out your normal healthy ability to cope with bad days and bad news, and replaces it with an unrecognizable sludge that finds no pleasure, no delight, no point in anything outside of bed. You alienate your friends because you can’t comport yourself socially, you risk your job because you can’t concentrate, you live in moderate squalor because you have no energy to stand up, let alone take out the garbage. You become pathetic and you know it. And you have no capacity to stop the downward plunge. You have no perspective, no emotional reserves, no faith that it will get better. So you feel guilty and ashamed of your inability to deal with life like a regular human, which exacerbates the depression and the isolation. If you’ve never been depressed, thank your lucky stars and back off the folks who take a pill so they can make eye contact with the grocery store cashier. No one on earth would choose the nightmare of depression over an averagely turbulent normal life.
It’s not an incapacity to cope with day to day living in the modern world. It’s an incapacity to function. At all. If you and your loved ones have been spared, every blessing to you. If depression has taken root in you or your loved ones, every blessing to you, too. No one chooses it. No one deserves it. It runs in families, it ruins families. You cannot imagine what it takes to feign normalcy, to show up to work, to make a dentist appointment, to pay bills, to walk your dog, to return library books on time, to keep enough toilet paper on hand, when you are exerting most of your capacity on trying not to kill yourself. Depression is real. Just because you’ve never had it doesn’t make it imaginary. Compassion is also real. And a depressed person may cling desperately to it until they are out of the woods and they may remember your compassion for the rest of their lives as a force greater than their depression. Have a heart. Judge not lest ye be judged.
It’s not an incapacity to cope with day to day living in the modern world. It’s an incapacity to function. At all. If you and your loved ones have been spared, every blessing to you. If depression has taken root in you or your loved ones, every blessing to you, too. No one chooses it. No one deserves it. It runs in families, it ruins families. You cannot imagine what it takes to feign normalcy, to show up to work, to make a dentist appointment, to pay bills, to walk your dog, to return library books on time, to keep enough toilet paper on hand, when you are exerting most of your capacity on trying not to kill yourself. Depression is real. Just because you’ve never had it doesn’t make it imaginary. Compassion is also real. And a depressed person may cling desperately to it until they are out of the woods and they may remember your compassion for the rest of their lives as a force greater than their depression. Have a heart. Judge not lest ye be judged.
“
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EVERYONE NEEDS TO READ THIS. Depression is not a synonym for being sad or having a bad day/bad week. It’s not a PHASE. It’s not a CHOICE. It’s not LAZINESS. spread the word guys. (via general-grievous) I wish I could make the people in my department understand that my feeling this way right now is no true reflection of my desires. I am not taking a leave of absence because I no longer care about the philosophy that previously consumed my life. Rather, it is because I know the true part of me does still care, and if I can just wait out this shit-ball I have landed in DESPITE fighting hard against unforseeable events N0T to be depressed for the last year and a half before I asked for time off, the drugs that correct my chemical imbalance will have time to work and I will become my normal self again and be able to finish my thesis the way I would have been able to had I not been ill. If it were some other, better recognised kind of debilitating illness there would be no question about giving me the time off I need to recover with no disgrace at having needed it. Now kind people become harsh as they sceptically ask if I don’t want to just quit now, settle for an MPhil. It is not laziness or lack of interest that is making me need time out. It is an illness. I have a doctor’s note saying that it is an illness and prescribing rest. Why do sensible, friendly people suddenly look sceptically on a medical opinion just because it concerns depression? I even explained the science behind what I now KN0W to be going on in my body, but because the person I was talking to has never suffered this illness, he didn’t believe me. Sigh. [via rhube] |
