people say folks with adhd struggle with "delayed rewards" aka long term goals and as such we tend to focus more on short term rewards. what they don't talk about is that at when we Do accomplish long term goals we don't actually feel anything proportionate to the amount of work we did to achieve it. In my head I suffered for a while and then money spontaneously appeared in my bank account.

E.R. Comics, Ryan Pequin

one time my friend had surgery on her hip/knee and we went to visit her in the hospital and she was like “hey guys, check out what i have! it’s this cool button that, when I press it, it gives me more morphine!” and sure enough she had a little tube with one end attached to her IV or whatever and one end with a button on it, and every time she pushed the button it gave her morphine

and she just kept pressing it and pressing it and giggling and getting loopier and loopier, so we went to ask a nurse if that was OK or if she was just going to overdose herself

and the nurse said that the morphine button is on a self timer limit and she had already maxed it out and won’t be able to get more for a few more hours, but she can just press the button as many times as she wants and thanks to her already being on the max dose of morphine she was just placebo effect-ing herself into the fucking stratosphere

it was a great image, my friend over there high as balls like I HAVE UNLIMITED MORPHINE POWER!!!! *press press press press* and the nurse like “nah that button isn’t doing shit but she’s having fun”

i want 60 thousand votes by next thursday

Smol Scale

I have never seen this post before but tumblr already said I liked it. And I do like it

ahhhhh. anyways.

I own a book that should not exist.

I collect old books. Mostly turn of the century stuff published between 1870 and 1920. My parents did too. They emassed a collection of books somewhere in the thousands. They got them out of abandoned houses, at auctions, as gifts and at every antique store on the east coast. My dad cleaned out his house after the divorce and I got some of the books. I planned to keep the good ones and hopefully sell some of the ones I didn’t have room for. For the past several days I have been researching the different titles and publishing dates to see how much they’re worth, usually it’s somewhere between $15-$50 so I’m not getting rich off it any time soon. I encountered this book:

Beautiful, right? Screams late Victorian period opulence. Definitely keeping it. I check for an owner’s name or little note on the title page, I love books that were Christmas gifts long ago. Instead I find this:

A gift for a student as an award for her academic success. From either 1875 or 1895. Very fucking cool. I search for the Chatsworth Institute of Baltimore Maryland in hopes that I am holding a significant piece of history in my hands. No such Institute has ever existed in Baltimore, none. Not historically, not currently. There is a Chatsworth school in Maryland but it’s a contemporary public school. I cannot find record of this school anywhere online, there is nothing left behind, it must have been a formal school to afford to give awards. There should be some trace of it. It’s like this book came from an alternate universe.

Let’s go to the title page:

Beautifully illustrated by a W Cunston or W Gunston. Neither name being up anyone. The name of the author of this book is nowhere to be seen. The publisher is London based and mostly published childrens books (including the words of Beatrice Potter) and that is the only concrete fact I can get. Googling “Eilon Manor” and “The Four Sisters” brings up very little. I sift and I find a book called Eilon Manor published in 1863. Like Baptista, it’s an incredibly boring piece of literature for Victorian young women. The author is listed as D. Richard, no first name, no gender, no location. D. Richard does not seem to exist either.

I cannot find any other copies of Baptista a Quiet Story. I cannot find D. Richard or W. Gunston. I cannot find a publishing date on this book. It is truly as though it slipped out from another parallel dimension.

It looks like people in the comments discovered quite a lot about the book itself, but here’s a bit about the original owner and the school she attended because I was bored and curious…

Chatsworth Hill School (later called Chatsworth Female Institute) opened in the fall of 1868 and operated until the summer of 1877. It was located at 188 Franklin Street in Baltimore and was operated by Miss A. E. Hasson. Tuition was $500 (about $9,700 today) per year for borders and $125 ($2400) for day students. This covered education in English, French and Latin. Music and German were extra, as was the use of a piano which cost $5 ($97) per quarter. Students were required to provide their own wearing apparel (which was to be marked with their name), towels, silverware, napkins and napkin rings.

Katie Newman was the daughter of a local attorney and attended Chatsworth for the 1874 and 1875 school years. Katie’s older sister Grace also attended Chatworth and was the valedictorian of the class of 1873.

Katie was presented with this book on the evening of June 17, 1875 by Rev. W. U. Murkland of Franklin Street Presbyterian Church during the closing exercises for the 1875 school year which were held in the school’s parlors. (Though I’m personally guessing it was inscribed by a teacher as the handwriting looks rather feminine to me.) She was 16 years old at the time.

On October 24, 1883 Katie married a tobacco merchant from Pennsylvania named William A. Buckingham. He was a member of the firm of Buckingham, Swope & Co. (later Buckingham Brothers Cigars), which seems to be most remembered today for making these funky advertising mirrors.

The two were married for only two and a half years before Katie died on March 24, 1886, two weeks after her 27th birthday. None of the newspaper accounts of her passing state a cause of death, and Maryland didn’t require deaths to be registered until 1898, so I’m unsure what caused her to die so young.

Katie is buried with her parents (who both predeceased her) at Loudon Cemetery in Baltimore.

The street the Newmans lived on was known as Kate Avenue until the 1930s when the name was changed to Cold Spring Lane.

Hi, op here, some stuff happened recently.

One, I don't think I was TA, personally. Seems most of you don't think that either. I do feel bad, now, for not handling it better, though.

I texted K again later and said I was sorry for telling her that in front of everybody and then storming out. I probably should have just put my foot down harder on my refusal and told her privately how much it upset me. I also told her, like how most of y'all told me, that her whole men suck routine was really invalidating as a trans man, and that either she Included me in all men or didn't, a real damned if you do damned if you don't sort of situation.

She thanked me for apologizing and apologized herself for the men comment. She said she honestly wasn't thinking about it when she said it but she'd try to be more sensitive. She also said she'd found out that her most recent boyfriend was married with kids sooo. She was kinda down in the dumps about men and dating and whatnot.

As for bigger updates... L broke it off with her fiance after our brunch!! She realized he wasn't doing anything and just absolutely oozing weaponized incompetence. So after a big blowout where she said either grow up or I'm gone, he chose to stay a giant man baby. You know, I never liked him much. She's angry and heartbroken, but she's like, gorgeous, smart, and insanely sweet. She'll realize that he was an absolute nothingburger of a man soon and move on easily.

Anyway, seems like a lot of y'all have nice things to say about my husband, so I'm gonna tell you what happened when I came out to him because I'll tell as many people who will listen how perfect he is.

So for the past two years before I came out, almost our whole married life, we had been having difficulty. I'd realized I was a man shortly before he proposed to me, and I thought I would just bottle it up and keep it down for the rest of my life. Turns out that's hard.

Like I said, difficulty. We were rarely affectionate with one another, almost never made love, and when we did, it was so unenjoyable that usually I pretended to finish and he said he was fine without finishing. It wasn't healthy for either of us. I kept feeling like I was dragging him down with how mopey I was around him, so around 5 years ago I decided to just bite the bullet and come out. I had already been visiting with a gender therapist behind his back and had the go ahead from both them and my endocrinologist to start T. I felt very guilty about that at the time, doing it behind his back.

I took him into the bedroom to talk and ended up just sobbing into his shirt for 30 minutes before timidly muttering "baby, I think I'm a man. I wanna be a man."

He laughed so loudly it made me jump and then cried out "thank GOD" as he hugged me. He told me that he was a second away from coming out himself and that he thought he'd have to divorce me. He was so relieved, I don't think I've ever seen him that happy. He promised to be with me every step of the way, and he was.

He was there to kiss me when I changed my name. He held my hand as I got my first T shot. He was the first thing I saw when I woke up from both top surgery and my sterilization procedure. He bitched at the social security office because it was all bullshit, he got in long, annoying phone calls with the bank. He renewed his vows with me last year in front of all our friends and family. He's the first thing I see in the morning and the last thing I see at night. I would do anything for him. I love him so much.

Sorry, I know I'm gushing, this isn't what the blog's for, but I just... need you all to understand that when K asked me to shittalk my husband, how impossible that felt. How cruel it felt. And I also want any other trans folks reading this to know that you can find your person, you don't have to give up on love. Someone out there is gonna love you, they're gonna think you're so fucking hot, they're gonna bend over backwards to make you happy. And you deserve it, too.

Sorry about the rambling. Hope all yall have a good day.

There were so many great parts in The Nine Eyes of Lucien, but this one might be my favorite.

Honestly, I loved this because the M9 absolutely roasted Lucien the second Cree said his name in the Evening Nip. His ego never stood a chance with them and he’s allowed a little petty snark in defence. Especially since they never really stop giving him shit.

last day to reblog

you now you want to.

Gonna have to wait a whole year if you miss this.

Fine

house md drinking game me and my bf are doing tonight, over/under on us getting alcohol poisoning?

wheelchairs and canes and glasses and hearing aids and every single other disability aid should be free btw and if you disagree i hate you

*places an orange just outside a fairy ring to see what comes out* science is more of an art than a science

*the orange grows legs and skitters away*

Fascinating results *places a banana in the same spot*

*clawed hand reaches out of the ether and drags it into the ring, leaving ragged claw marks in the soil as it disappears, back into the ether from whence it came*

“let’s go to the extreme.” *places a pineapple in the same spot*

Real scientists would keep putting an orange in the same spot to make sure the results are consistent before moving on to other fruits or different spots.

The only valid response to this post.

We’re working up the complexity levels of fruit until we feel there is enough evidence to support the judicious placement of a volunteer twink

You sit down, we haven’t seen what’s happened to the pineapple

#this is tumblr we’ve all seen what’s happened to the pineapple

tags via @sylveondreams

shadow the hedgehog is cool. gunblades are cool. vampires are cool. scythes are cool. white hair is cool. we need to stop lying about what is not cool

flaming wheel with eyes: BE NOT AFRAID

Monsterfucker: Oh, I'm not ;)

Flaming wheel with eyes: ...

Flaming wheel with eyes: You know, talking to humans has gotten really weird ever since they invented the internet