#anecdote
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I went to a pride march this evening; it was good exercise. A bunch of people came together, walked around downtown for twenty minutes, ending at the park, where they held a little ice cream social. Some people had flags or signs. There was a woman there wearing a “The First Pride Was A Riot” t-shirt. She was walking her dog. One guy had a t-shirt saying “Jesus Loves Drag Queens”. I’m glad the wearer thinks that, but I can’t ignore how few people do. Christianity as an institution is consistently opposed to queer rights; legitimizing queer identities by saying Jesus loves us is not as comforting as the guy assumed it would be. And that’s not getting into how the shirt kinda equates drag queens with trans women… There were flags hanging downtown. Not pride flags, though. The town is dressing up in red, white, and blue, in preparation for the nations 250th anniversary next month. Part of me wonders if our Republican mayor intentionally garbed the streetlights in the colors of our increasingly queer-hostile nation during Pride Month. Probably not. Why would Republicans worry about a walk downtown?
Okay I have another story about being freaked out at school bc I’m autistic: we had a task in history class (I think?? Not sure why it was history and not polish but I think I’m right??) to write our interpretation of the phrase “I am human, I consider nothing human alien to me” and I wrote that like. Nothing about a person is weird to me bc I’m also a person. Or whatever. Something along these lines AKA A GOOD INTERPRETATION??? And I got zero points on it. And to this day I’m so confused. And terrified of the phrase. Super ironic that I’m autistic too, like wow I guess I really am that different. People get eachother except for me apparently. Anyway this was also when I was like 10 years old so I couldn’t care less anymore
It is often said that in Chinese, the word for “crisis” also means “opportunity”. This is nonsense. Crisis is 危机, which means “moment of danger”, and opportunity is 机会, which means “moment of potential”. They have 机 in common, but that would be like one Chinese person telling another, “Hey, did you know that in English, the word for ‘hand soap’ also means ‘hand gun’?”
SKETCHBOOK 64 - THREE GOLDFINCH AND A STORY CRAZY SQUIRRELS AND PUSHY DOVES There’s a lot going on in and around our deck. The squirrels are freaking out, the doves are pushing smaller birds out of the way (doves? really?), and I’m pretty sure raccoons and flying squirrels are hitting the feeders after the lights are out. First, the picture: I fill one of the two flat feeders with cracked corn. It’s not a favorite of any of the birds,… SKETCHBOOK 64 - THREE GOLDFINCH AND A STORY
i need to start posting unhinged shit about my OCs to regain the motherfuckin’ plot. feels like i’m over here manosphere nose to the grindstonemaxxing or some shit — by that, i mean i’m clinging desperately to my middle class income for the incredible privilege of home ownership, a thing i believe i can do only now and certainly not later. in some ways, having no expendable income is less stressful; you always know what goes where and that you’re up shit’s creek without a paddle if something goes wrong. i have a weird savings account now, and a banker who can smell the adulthood-of-SSDI-payments on me. there’s always an acknowledgement in the air when i have to do some weird financial shit with my wife that i am a hair trigger from snapping and that the only thing holding my psyche together is a delusional tunnel vision sort of hope that i will get out of this city and have a house. maybe then, i will allow myself to rest for a week. i cant wait to quit my job so that i can gleam some enjoyment from this life through my dumb little projects. until then, gotta remind my OCs that they’re alive. and stop scrolling on shit like bluesky. hopefully both will make me feel slightly better. (summer makes me crazy.)
YOU KNOW THERE’S A CATCH I bought a really nice set of oil pencils. 120 pencils with all the right colors, including a phenomenal range of greens, blues, reds, and browns from very dark to very light. I got them a few days ago, but didn’t open them until today. I needed a holder for them. I can’t deal with those flat plastic trays. The Duke jumps up, knocks one of those flat trays over, and all the pencils go flying. On… YOU KNOW THERE’S A CATCH
Saw someone talking about group projects and it always reminds me of the worst thing to happen ever. It was like idk 5th grade?? I was 10 years old or sth?? We were making a collage (?) of the sea from torn up blue paper and for some reason we had to do it in pairs. I SOMEHOW got paired up with the one guy I never talked to or wanted to be around (which is weird bc I’ve been friends with everyone else there). So we sit down to do the thing and we realise this is kinda dumb bc it’s very little work for two people. So I say okay how about I tear the paper and you glue it on. I also gave him some tips on where to place it or whatever. And tearing the paper for 20 mins wasn’t super entertaining but whatever. So then the lesson ends, we go to give the finished piece to the teacher and she’s like yeah cool you get a 5 (or 6 or whatever, a good grade). And then this stupid loser says “actually, I did all the work myself”. And yk. This is the kind of situation that triggers my selective mutism. So I’m just like. Oh. Surely she saw me do all that stuff. Surely she trusts me, everybody loves me here and I get basically the best grades out of everyone. Nope. She says I have to make one myself at home. Was very tempted not to do it out of spite. Took weeks of procrastinating bc I didn’t want to think about it but I did it. Worst piece of art on earth btw
THROWBACK THURSDAY Keeping Old Memories Alive, Rich Paschall Let’s face it, there are a lot of annoying things about social media. Even worse than the fake news and memes being spread, making us dumber by the day, is the proliferation of new games, rituals, groups, pages, chats, insta-things, broadcast thyself and say nothing. YouTube channels (I have 2), Instagram (rjppix), Twitter (@rjpaschall), Pinterest… THROWBACK THURSDAY
SKETCHBOOK 64 - THREE GOLDFINCH AND A STORY CRAZY SQUIRRELS AND PUSHY DOVES There’s a lot going on in and around our deck. The squirrels are freaking out, the doves are pushing smaller birds out of the way (doves? really?), and I’m pretty sure raccoons and flying squirrels are hitting the feeders after the lights are out. First, the picture: I fill one of the two flat feeders with cracked corn. It’s not a favorite of any of the birds,… SKETCHBOOK 64 - THREE GOLDFINCH AND A STORY
SKETCHBOOK 66 - A FINCH AND A SQUIRREL WALK INTO A BAR I did a couple of things last night. I’ve been using small paper so I can start and finish drawings quickly. Small drawings are also easier on my hand and arm, and I’m not using up quite so much material in the process. It’s a House Finch. I have no idea why they are called House Finches since they don’t live in houses, at least not anymore. Maybe because once upon a time they did? House… SKETCHBOOK 66 - A FINCH AND A SQUIRREL WALK INTO A BAR
So. I have a nine year old sister. Last night, she tried to make herself some coffee. Being 9, she ended up using too much instant coffee powder. So, I set her concoction aside, make her some hot cocoa instead, and attempt to salvage the coffee. after drinking about 3 ounces of the stuff, I give up and pitch it. This morning, I wake with a heart rate I’d expect after, say, getting a large piece of glass stuck in my foot. Okay, I think to myself. Maybe that coffeee was stonger than I thought… Then, this evening, I start washing dishes, and get stomache cramps for no apparent reason. I think back… oh. the fucking coffee. I look it up. Nope, cramps are not one of the symptoms. A vague feeling of dread suffuses my every move… and then I realize I forgot breakfast.
Someone at work once got mad and made snide comments “behind my back” where I could overhear them that they thought my not making eye contact with them was “a sign of disrespect.” They don’t know how close they came to me grabbing their head and firmly pressing my forehead to theirs and saying, “is this enough eye contact for you? Do you feel the respect yet? We are the same. We are just stardust monkeys playing in the sandbox of time and space, living in parallel realities.” Instead I just said out loud without even turning around or looking at them, “actually it’s a sign of autism.” They never spoke to me again. Should have let the intrusive thoughts win, could have done with less people trying to socialize with me at work.
I remember when I was in elementary school we had a dirt club and a water club at recess and we were at war. I was in water club (obviously) and the whole thing was that on days when it rained the rain club played in the dirt area where puddles would form and we made dams and rivers and a lake and it was sick as hell. The dirt club played in the dirt. Like fucking losers. What the fuck was wrong with those little bitches? I don’t know but I’m still mad about it. Fuck them. Fuck them all. and yeah on muddy days we just threw rocks and stuff at each other so that was fun.
SKETCHBOOK 66 - A FINCH AND A SQUIRREL WALK INTO A BAR I did a couple of things last night. I’ve been using small paper so I can start and finish drawings quickly. Small drawings are also easier on my hand and arm, and I’m not using up quite so much material in the process. It’s a House Finch. I have no idea why they are called House Finches since they don’t live in houses, at least not anymore. Maybe because once upon a time they did? House… SKETCHBOOK 66 - A FINCH AND A SQUIRREL WALK INTO A BAR
I got to see Pedro Pascal… and he noticed me back… I still don’t know how to process what happened at CCXP Mexico City. The whole day honestly felt like a test of faith if not even the whole weekend until Sunday came around.. I waited more than four hours with no real certainty he was even going to appear in that stage. He was never fully confirmed to appear at the mandalorian and grogu tour in Mexico City it was all rumours. But I knew in my heart — and because he was in Mexico filming — that he had to be there. I kept telling myself he was gonna come and that I would check that 3/3 on the space Latinos list I have. I was high key in the point of mass hysteria when I heard a roar erupt from the stage next to us, where the general panel (not the q&a panel where I was waiting) started and something inside me collapsed. I knew instantly it was him. My body went light. I got dizzy. I wanted to cry. All I could think was: in half an hour, I’m going to see Pedro Pascal with my own eyes. Nothing prepares you for that moment. Again it was very similar but at the same time different from when I met Oscar. Similar in the sense of traveling to the city and getting nervous, tho with Oscar I almost passed out after meeting him, and it was also very intense. I’ve loved Pedro Pascal since the Game of Thrones days. Through every era, every role, every interview, every phase of life, I’ve been there, got my own tattoos related to his characters or something of himself. I mostly stay on the margins of the fandom these days; quietly making my little chibis, loving him from afar, keeping him as one of my comfort people and away from all the toxicity there is sometimes around, cause he is after all the kind of person whose presence, even through a screen, has brought warmth to my life on hard days. Anyways when he walked out, smiling like the human sun that he is, wearing that green Mexican football jersey, being everybody’s tío proudly taking pictures of the people at the crowd. I swear time bent in on itself. He sat right in front of me for around twenty-five minutes and it felt like one second. I blacked out half of it, don’t even ask me what he talked about, cause I have to rewatch that panel cause I ain’t got the faintest idea of what happened. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely function. I was warm, nervous, trembling like crazy, trying to stay present while my brain was short-circuiting. But when I saw his thumb tattoo? That shit was crazy. The same tattoo I have on my wrist, matching with my best friends. That almost broke me. I had to fight back tears right there in the crowd. Something about seeing that tiny familiar mark on him, in real life, after carrying my own version of it for so long… it felt too personal, too surreal, too full-circle to explain. He noticed my drawing too. Pedro made direct eye contact because of my art. I was waving it up in the air and he did a grabby hand motion. Even typing that feels fake. He saw something I made with my own hands. A man who has inspired so much creativity and comfort in me looked back at me because of something I created. Im again with this question: How do you move on from that? And the craziest part is that I thought nothing could top my Saturday. I had already lived so many unreal moments at CCXP — seeing the cast of Spider-Man Noir, seeing Paul Wesley, seeing Matt Smith (which is its own insane story for another day). I thought the convention had already given me everything it could possibly give. Then Mr. Pascal showed up. And now I’m left with that same strange feeling I had after meeting Oscar Isaac — like it happened to somebody else. Like I’m a fraud retelling someone else’s memory. Like my mind refuses to accept that these things happen to me. But they did. I was there. I saw him laugh. I saw the curls up close. I saw the tattoo. He saw my drawing. And most of all, I saw Pedro being exactly who everyone says he is: warm, playful, speaking Spanish as if google translate was talking in his ear, which was so endearing… Nothing compares to that. I think I’ll be processing this for the rest of my life. How was I able to see my two viejos in the span of 6 months after being a fan for over 10 years of both of them? Truly insanity. Lewis Pullman… I’m coming for you next 🫵🏼
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