Five Star's 321st Great Blog Roundup Is Brought to You By Elizabeth Bear
This week's Five Star roundup is brought to you by a very loved baby boy, a Rocky Balboa moment, when things shouldn't work out but then they do, creating healthy space for yourself online, what still happens as a result of being female in public, working it out, dating in the 2010s, and Elizabeth Bear:
This is not the story I had been drafting in my mind over the weeks leading up to our due date. I was imagining excited phone calls, a joyous labor, and my crying baby on my chest at the end of it all. But this story still needs to be written and shared as it would have had it played out to my most perfect plan. For though he was born still, he was still born. This is for you my darling Reid.
Pretending to be Rocky without actually getting punched is pretty sweet. I highly recommend it. You're gonna eat lightening and you're gonna crap thunder!
Unless you spent your wee hours in an Ambien trance, bowlining the heck out of an innocent 12" chain, all that happened is your necklace lay on a night table somehow perplexing itself.
Still, nothing unperplexes easy. And the nature of the tangled necklace is that you’ll forget what you know about its not being tangled.
I tried a number of things out, but none of them sounded right. Finally, I went and knocked on (Redacted)’s door and tiptoed in. “Um, I’m trying to write this letter to Nikolas Enclosure, but I’m not having any luck. I know he’s turned us down a bunch of times, so I want to convince him this time. What should I say?” (Redacted) looked at me, disgusted.
“Ugh. I don’t know. Tell him to stop being such a (redacted – derogatory slang sometimes used for one who displays reluctance) and come on the show!”
It’s so easy for a digital landscape to become crowded, filled with people and images and ideas that we don’t agree with, and feel as though we never signed up for in the first place. Sometimes scrolling through our social feeds or even our favorite websites can become more draining than restorative, more stressful than calming, and more annoying than fun.
When I arrived the organizer and staff were very nice and accommodating.
I get introduced to the stage and within about three minutes I am interrupted by a male (late 30′s/early 40′s) saying to me “there’s a 51% chance that my buddy here will have sex with you. and I will take the other 49%”.
I didn’t fall. I didn’t bump into any blunt or sharp objects. The only medical explanation for the pain in my arm was my three months using Tinder. At night, despite to end my loneliness, I would lie in bed, holding my tablet up in the air with my left hand, and swipe right and left on the dating site with my thumb…
And because you are a fan of finding good, new writing online: