Rach > Recent Status Updates

This better make me cry as much as the movie

Insane lesbians! Fun!

“They always call depression the blues, but I would have been happy to waken to a periwinkle outlook. Depression to me is urine yellow. Washed out, exhausted miles of weak piss.”

Some great points in here

From my mother I inherited my looks and a tendency to migraine. From my father I inherited an optimism which did not leave me until recently.

The game’s (Animal Crossing) traveling musician, K. K. Slider, a laid-back hippy Jack Russell with a guitar and prominent eyebrows is an animal caricature of one of Nintendo’s composers, Kazi Totaka, also the voice of Yoshi.

Pokémon is no longer a barrier between generations: It's a bridge.
But then, it always was a bridge. In the nineties, people feared that kids vere playing video games to the exclusion of everything else, that games isolated them from the world and from other people. But for so many of the billions of us who play video games, it's exactly the opposite. We play in pursuit of connection.

I got so excited to see all the chapter titles. There’s on about animal crossing near the end. Ee !!

"Goodbye, Hollander," Rozanov replied from the other room. And Shane left. He realized, when he was back in his room, that they hadn't even kissed. He also realized, with horror, that he regretted that.

"You are embarrassed."
"Well!"
"You don't play with your ass? It makes you gay?"
"Oh my fucking god..."
"You know what makes you gayer?"
"Rozanov...shut the fuck-"
"Sucking my dick. You were doing that a minute ago."

Plus, Ilya hated this guy. He hated his pretty boy face and his perfect goddamned English and his perfect goddamned French… He hated how serious he was. How earnest. He was everything the league wanted from their stars.
Ilya kissed his dumb mouth and swallowed his stupid little sighs and felt his annoying fingers in his hair. He pulled back so he could look at his horrible face with its ridiculous freckles. Fuck.

He would never actually tell him, but Hollander was really fucking good. He challenged Ilya in ways that Ilya wasn't used to. He loved taking the puck from Hollander. He loved slamming him into the boards. He loved skating around him. He loved shit-talking him because his eyes would get all squashed up in anger and his pink lips would curl into an adorable little attempt at a snarl. Like an angry kitten.

"Very pretty," Rozanov teased him. "Like a doll."
"You're painted up too."
Rozanov leaned on the top of the boards and grinned. "Yes, but I'm not pretty."
Shane rolled his eyes. He had been called "pretty boy" a few times before, usually during games, and he hated it. He wished he hated it this time.
In his makeup. . . Rozanov did not look pretty. He looked stunning.

“For the rest of his life, Shane Hollander would have to live with the fact that he had ended his NHL draft day by getting himself off to thoughts of Ilya Rozanov”

“My life is suspended above an abyss of ignorance . . . I live whit happily hemmed in on all sides by an impenetrable wall of technological riddles. I do not know how the toilet flushes or why water comes out of my faucet or what makes my Hoover suck up dust, and yet—to my credit—I continue to flush, wash my dishes, and vacuum, entirely unaware of how I am doing these things”

This is delightful

"Reflect on the world that you carry within yourself. And name this thinking what you wish. . . Your innermost happening is worth all your love.”

I love the idea of keeping a photo of little you in your wallet as a reminder of why you take good care of yourself and a reminder of who you are re-parenting.