More Dungeons & Doggies! Thank you all for the warm response so far! I’m definitely going to look into putting together a little zine/book (and maybe prints?) of these if can. In the meantime: The wizard, the monk, the thief, the wizard’s apprentice ✨🐶✨
hey pals, I just finished reading sally ride: america’s first woman in space, by lynn sherr, and here’s a collection of my fave sally ride facts:
her favorite constellation was orion, because you can find it so easily
one of her first jobs was babysitting. she made the kids pb&j sandwiches, but they wouldn’t eat them because “the peanut butter was on the wrong side of the bread.” sally threw out the sandwiches and never babysat again.
she stopped drinking coors beer when she found out joseph coors had opposed the equal rights amendment
she told the u.s. ambassador to norway that his rape joke wasn’t funny
exxonmobil gave millions of dollars to her “sally ride science” teacher training academies. it was a business compromise between an oil company and an environmentally proactive nonprofit, and during each keynote speech, sally would make a comment about “oil spills” or “oily money” and glance over at the exxonmobil rep before moving on.
she had a border collie when she was a kid, and two bichon frises with her partner, tam.
watching barefoot contessa was a daily ritual, and she loved ina garten’s meatloaf
when her relationship with tam started getting serious, tam asked “is this forever?” and sally responded “I can’t think more than five years ahead.” so every five years, tam would ask her “are we renewing?” they ended up being together for 27 years. when she was dying of cancer, sally told tam “I wish I had another 27 years with you.”
If it weren’t for the sturdy construction of a late 2008 MacBook—yes, white (well, more like off-dingy-white) shell and all—and the soft, fluffy rug—a housewarming gift from your mother–that covered your hardwood floors, the computer would have been shattered when you vaulted from the couch after the article—sent from a friend that was in desperate need of a lesson in softening the blow–loaded on the screen.
“Fuck!” you cursed, haphazardly picking your laptop up by the corner and tossing it on the sofa. “Shit, fuck!” Snatching your not-yet-empty wine glass from its perch, you stomped into your flat’s little kitchenette and uncorked the bottle of red while downing what remained in your glass. You poured and downed another.
“Really?!” you screamed at the pocket pig calendar hanging opposite you, a bit of spittle and wine flying from your mouth.
Poor Darius; he and his little cowboy hat didn’t deserve any of this.
You tried to calm yourself, really you did, but after a few huffing breaths that were anything but calming, you gave up and grabbed the bottle of wine before heading back to the couch. Your phone was at your ear, number selected and dialed, before the blankets and pillows had even settled from the force of your entire body weight slamming dramatically into them.
“Honey, are you alright?” Despite the hint of worry in her tone, your mum’s voice managed to calm you a bit; suddenly air wasn’t being forced in and out of your lungs as a more natural rhythm took hold.
“No,” you answered tartly before taking another swig of wine. It was silent as you both waited for the other to speak.
“Well are you going to tell me or can I get back to bed?” Mum was always impatient when it came close to bedtime; she was a solid eight-hour sleeper—nothing more and nothing less—and she coordinated her bedtime and wakeup time perfectly so she always got the right amount of sleep.
“He’s…engaged,” you said bitterly, lips puckering around the words, a sour taste left in your mouth at the admission; it didn’t feel right coming off your tongue. And it wasn’t jealousy—or at least you didn’t want to admit it was—because you weren’t entirely sure that if He were replaced with We you would be left with the same sour feeling.