lauren3210: (Default)
I've been writing a book the past few weeks. For the first time in ages, I had the entire story mapped out in my head from start to finish, and every time I sat down to write, I knew exactly what I wanted to say and how to say it. I've been optimistic that THIS would be the time I would actually finish an original story. It was going great, I had 60k words written, and I was on the home stretch... and then Ben borrowed my laptop and closed down the word doc WITHOUT saving it, and now the entire thing is gone. SIXTY THOUSAND WORDS. Thinking about it even now is like a punch to the gut.

We took our kids to see my parents, because they came close to us on their new narrow boat, and my middle daughter fell backwards off the boat onto the tow path, and gave herself a concussion.

My eldest daughter is so stressed about her upcoming exams because the bloody school won't let her stay home for study leave that we had to rush her to hospital on Friday with a stomach ulcer.

And because all of this has been happening, I did my grocery shopping online, and they didn't deliver it yesterday. When I called to find out why, I got told that the delivery man knocked on the door and left a card when we didn't answer, but either he made that up or he went to the wrong address, because I was in the living room all day waiting for the fucker to get there and there is no bloody card.

And that was the point that I sort of just... broke. There I was, staring into the depths of my freezer and wondering what kind of meal I could make out of a bag of frozen peas and half a pack of mince, and I didn't even realise I was crying until Ben pulled me out of the kitchen and sat me down on the sofa. Which I then stayed sitting on, staring at the wall opposite for a good few hours. Funny how it's the little things that break you, isn't it?

You ever just want to meet God just so that you can junkpunch him? I kinda want to junkpunch God right now. Like, really fucking hard.
lauren3210: (Default)
Okay, so I'm meant to be writing, but I'm just so wound up that I feel like I could explode at any moment, so instead I'm coming on here to vent my frustrations. Um, sorry in advance?

Read more... )

On a slightly happier note, let me tell you something that Ben did over the weekend. He's a bit of a weirdo, okay, and there are times when I wonder who thought it was a good idea to give this overgrown child an actual medical licence. But anyway, on Sunday he decided to play a prank on our two youngest, by filling the water filter jug with weak lemon squash and insisting that it was in fact his own pee and then drinking it in front of them. Cue screams of disgust from everyone close by, followed by my 5y/o running off to find me, where she says, "Mama! Quick, take your [engagement] ring off, he's a very weird man!" Like, she was SO CONCERNED for me that I might actually marry a man who drinks his own pee, and desperately wanted to save me from the 'weird man'. I think I cracked a rib laughing.

Okay, venting over, and back to your usual viewing schedule.
lauren3210: (Default)
So, for those of you who read my post last week, I thought I'd give an update on what's been happening with my daughter's school. On Friday, I spoke with her head of house, Mr. A. It was only a brief chat, but he said that it would probably be fine, as long as she wore her hair down to cover it. Yay, I thought. Success! Then, later in the day, I get a call from my daughter, who is totally distraught. Following the advice of Mr. A, when asked by another teacher if she'd taken the piercing out, she said yes. Mr. W then demanded that she lift her hair to show him, to prove it. She said no, she doesn't have to show him any part of her body if she doesn't want to. He replied that if a member of staff tells her to do something she is to do it, without question. Now, guys, I'm just not having that, so when she called me in a panic, I asked her to hand me over to this Mr. W, with whom I had a bit of a chat, that basically amounted to me telling him that if he came within 10 feet of my daughter ever again, I would make sure the entire board of governors and the police know of his proclivity for telling teenage girls to do whatever he says without question. I mean, really, NO. Not acceptable behaviour, Mr. W. (and also, why are you even here, you don't even teach my daughter.)

So anyway, this morning, Eryn goes off to school with her hair down, but it turns out that this prick hasn't let it go, and so now her head of house and her head of year have decided that she must either remove the piercing, or stay in isolation until such time that the piercing has healed enough for her to remove it for the school day. So I get a phone call from Mr. A this morning, telling me of their decision, and I tried really fucking hard, I really did. I explained my stance on their forcing my child to choose between her right to her own body and her right to an education, I brought up the fact that other students come into school wearing jewellery and make up and hair dye without being taken out of classes for it. But, they refused to budge. And then he asked me what I was going to do about it. So, I told the fucker that I was going to leave the decision up to my daughter, because unlike him and the other two middle aged white men, I don't actually try to take control over my daughter's right to choose what happens to her.

And of course, my intelligent, beautiful, wonderful daughter chooses her education over her piercing. She could have stayed in isolation, could have sat in a room on her own and worked quietly on her schoolwork and kept the piercing she so desperately wanted, but she chose not to, because she knew that she wouldn't get the full educational experience without her teachers there to help her. I would have chosen the opposite; I would have sat in that class and stared them down, because I am and always have been a stubborn cow. And I just feel so bad for her, because she's being discriminated against because she's a good girl, a good student. They don't bother with the ones who walk into class with their faces done up like they're off on a night out clubbing, because they know they would be like me and wouldn't give in. They pick their battles, and they knew my daughter was one they could win, and I feel literally sick with rage. Because I remember it, I remember wearing the simple Claddagh ring that came from a time when my parents were still married, I remember the teacher insisting I take it off and give it to her, I remember the feeling of utter powerlessness, the frustrated hopelessness that comes with being put in a situation where you can do nothing other than bend to another person's will. It's been twenty years, and I can still remember that feeling, like a sick hot burn in my chest. And do you know what it feels like? It feels exactly like the time I was sexually assaulted in my own home, by someone I thought I could trust.

And yeah, it's only a piercing, only a piece of jewellery, and that's how I've tried to play it off to Eryn. I've told her that the very second her last exam is over, I will take her to get all the piercings she wants, we'll dye her hair blue like she wants, and she can walk back into that school and tell them exactly where they can shove their arbitrary rules. But it's not just a piercing, not to her. It's a part of her, a choice she made about herself that society (and by society I mean middle aged white men) has told her she's not allowed to make. And I wish I could tell her that it's a one off, that it won't happen again, that as soon as she's away from that school and in a place that won't treat their students like naughty puppies to be smacked on the nose for pulling at their leash, it'll be over. But I can't. I can't, because she's a female, and these hits are just going to keep on coming, and our schools seem determined to keep that as the status quo.

And now I need to go hit something forever. Ugh.
lauren3210: (merthur)
Do you ever get so angry that you feel completely impotent with rage, and you end up wanting to cry with frustration? Because sometimes I do. Most of the time I can shrug things off and not let them bother me, because I'm able to tell myself that there's nothing I can do to change the situation and that getting upset only hurts myself, so why bother. But then, there are times when I get so angry that my hands shake and my palms itch with the need to strangle someone with my bare hands. Read on for the source of my rage:

the British school system sucks ass )

misogynistic tv shows are misogynistic and also homophobic )

Phew, I feel slightly better now! Sorry for the rant, guys, hopefully y'all are having a better day than I am! :D


Mar. 13th, 2015 12:11 pm
lauren3210: (merthur)
omg, someone tie me to this chair and make me finish writing this damn fic! I'm procrastinating so badly I almost feel as if I should ask for an extension (which I have NEVER done before) but I know that if I do I'll just use the time to procrastinate some more. I have never had such trouble writing before, what has gotten into me?
lauren3210: (merthur)
Where I whinge about writing instead of actually writing, because procrastination is the best tbh )

In other news, I got the [ profile] hd_smoochfest prompt I wanted! I'm so excited, it plays right into my favourite kind of stories, I cannot wait to get started! (Although it may have to wait a while, I still have 3 other fests to finish writing for first goddammit!)

Hope everyone had a fabulous weekend, and that Monday isn't too much of a downer for anybody <3
lauren3210: (merthur)
You know what? Y'all need to stop prompting awesome ideas, because I don't think I can keep up with all the different stories my muse keeps coming up with. Like, I'm in the middle of writing a fic for someone's birthday, then I have my [ profile] harrydracompreg story, then my [ profile] dracotops_harry story, then there's the most PERFECT prompt for me on [ profile] hd_smoochfest (and seriously, if anyone steals that prompt from me I might have to do something terrible because it's MINE OKAY? MIIIIIINE) and THEN, as if that's not enough, I accidentally trip over some truly beautiful prompts for the remix of THAT PIC.

That's 5 different stories I have rolling around in my head, you guys, FIVE!!!

Y'all just need to stop, okay, give me some time to breathe between story ideas. *whimpers over sore fingertips*

(I'm kidding, don't stop, this is doing wonderful things for my current manic phase)
lauren3210: (Default)
I don't understand, how can you not warn for Major Character Death in a fic?

I mean, I get that people don't like to give away the ending of their stories, but that's a pretty big thing to not tag. AO3 even has it up there in bold so that it's the first thing you see. I get not wanting to tag who tops and who bottoms and stuff like that, and maybe even things like dubcon when interpretations can differ. But MCD? I need to fucking know that before I start reading.

I don't know, maybe it's just important to me and not so much to anyone else. I test extremely high in levels of affective empathy, so where one person might feel sad over a character dying, I almost literally feel the pain of losing a loved one because I find it hard to dissociate my own feelings from that of the characters. The only time I've read a MCD fic was three years ago, and I'm still not over it, I still randomly burst into tears whenever something reminds me of it.

Until today, anyway, because I unwittingly walked into an untagged MCD fic and ended up having a panic attack and vomiting on my bedroom floor. I haven't been able to stop shaking and crying for the last four hours, and my husband is starting to get that look he always gets when he thinks it might be time for me to go back on my meds. What a wonderful fucking way to start the new year.
lauren3210: (Bucky)
Read more... )
lauren3210: (Destiel)
I saw something on Tumblr, and it made me so angry I had to walk away before I put my fist through my laptop screen. So this is a rant, filled with swear words probably, please feel free to scroll past and ignore!

Sometimes Tumblr Makes Me Want to Punch People in the Face )

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