Anonymous said: hey hey, Miss America! I saw your cosplay while I was browsing tags and just wanted to say you look fantastic and that I love your hair! :-]
Aw, thank you anon! <3
:) Gosh, I like Dragon*Con.
Dragon*Con Day 1: It’s Not Even Night Yet, a recap.
Nobody recognized my costume. That’s alright. Have tons of ideas for more of them. God everywhere here is so good at being crafty.
Received a hefty dose of inspiration from attending a bunch of writer panels. Topped it off with spazzing out in front of a hero of mine, kellysue. Got probably the best selfie I’m ever going to have in my entire life with her.
Listen, there’s not a lot of people I can point to as actual inspirations in my life and this lady is one of them. I am so glad she’s just as awesome in real life as I’d hoped.
I feel like I have nowhere else to talk about this, so here it is.
I’m so anxious right now, it’s only a matter of time until I pass out. There’s this pressure in the back of my head threatening to turn into something more, into something that could kill me and I swear, this anxiety is so bad that I know I’d feel it in my grave.
I have no idea what to do, but then again I never really do anyway so what’s the point.
I’ve thought long and hard about the things I’d do and say to my father if I ever ran into him in real life.
Not once in all this time did I think it’d be over the internet.
What the fuck, I can’t yell at a fucking friend request. I can’t cry at a notification. I can’t punch a dismiss button in the face.
I also can’t hug an internet profile. I can’t type, “Why did you never come back?” into a fucking IM and expect an honest answer. I can’t rightly forgive bits of text that have nothing but my own projected meaning.
Maybe I just can’t forgive him.
i like you the way you are. stop trying to be facebook.
Dianna Agron as Luci
Hey, internet. I’m James Johnsotn, and I write the Wicked Intervention column over at Multiversity Comics. I don’t think I’ve ever addressed that here too much, I’ve been too busy shit-posting. But it’s late and I’ve been thinking a lot about WicDiv and I don’t want to…
I’ve been reading Gillen and McKelvie’s Wicked And Divine. It’s a comic about becoming a popular artist, or at least, that’s how I read it. It’s told through a number of gods that you could see as being vaguely analogous to pop stars. I see it as an extension of my childhood reading of Anne…
As someone who never thought they’d have any kind of meaningful relationship when they underwent the process of changing their life, tonight was a reminder of just how wrong I was.
There was a time, before I started transitioning, when I sat myself down and made myself face the incredibly possible reality of having to proceed through life without friends. More than that, I made myself accept the (false) belief that I am someone undeserving of love.
I believed that accepting this as a reality somehow made me stronger, that the resistance to letting people in was a survival trait, something that I would need in order to protect myself.
I don’t think I’ve ever been more wrong about anything in my entire life.
If there’s something I’ve learned in this small handful of years where I’ve actually felt like I’m alive, it’s that you will always be able to find people you can love, and love very deeply. But the rarest kind of person is the person who will help you find a reason to love yourself.
For the longest (and sometimes still current) time, I have always found myself tearing down the progress I have built because I don’t think I’m deserving of it. When it comes to my gender identity, how I look, the things I do, everything, it all falls apart like so many dominoes. I’ll get down on myself because I will always find a reason to be convinced that I am not good enough.
I count my lucky stars every night, thanking whatever fates have decreed that I be surrounded by so many loving, caring people who do more than just “be there.” They insist on helping me rebuild and become better than I was. They help me find a reason to love myself again, and that, that is the truest, most purest form of friendship that I can think of.
Tonight, I had to say goodbye (not permanently) to someone who is that friend.
Those of you who know me know that I don’t do well with goodbyes. Separation and distance is not something I handle well. However, with this friend in particular, I wasn’t concerned.
I wasn’t concerned because I remain convinced that regardless of whatever space comes between us, whatever distance finds its way to separating us, we will always remain
friends family. Tonight, I refused to cry, because I know deep down inside that there will come another day, sometime soon, where we’ll continue on like we were never apart.
Of the few things I’ve learned in how to be a good friend, it’s that it’s never the things you give them that make them remember you, no.
It’s the love you help them find within themselves that they will always remember. They are the fingerprints left directly on your heart, reminders that someone has decided that they have found something within you to love and care about.
As long as I remember to love and care about myself enough to stop trying to shatter everything, I will always, always have a piece of these people I so desperately love to carry with me forever.
Goodbyes will never really be goodbyes, and distance will hold no sway over the feelings that will remain deep within my heart for as long as I live.
This family that I have makes life worth living.