Funny, I expect all penguins to have that name.

Maybe it’s because it’s still night where I am, maybe it’s because I’m on the spectrum, but those blue lights feel like an assault on my senses. I had to scroll it off my screen to type this because it made my eyes hurt. I can’t imagine having to deal with that every time I have to pee in public.

I also can’t help but wonder where people go to do their makeup. I don’t use makeup, but I often see others using the mirrors to touch up this or that. I can’t imagine blue lights are helpful in that regard.

Interesting, I think of the lyrics as describing the way a baby or toddler feels when looking at the stars. They don’t know what those bright lights are yet, they just know they’re shiny and too high up to reach.

Is there a version with a dark mode? I like the reader mode on my phone, because it makes the background darker. Gray background, white letters, simple and easy on the eyes.

If all the yeast in our bodies’ microbiomes could coordinate together to take us over, we’d be so screwed.

You clearly never saw me in my “edamame everyday” phase.

There’s also this wonderful comment about memories of playing “peek-a-boo” in the bathtub.

It’s important to take time to enjoy the simple things in life.

I would like to second this. Researchers are standing by and ready to learn.

Do you truly believe that matters to this regime? That it would matter to ICE officers charged with capturing you?

It’s certainly a comfortable thought to consider yourself “the exception,” but it’s dangerously naive. Racists hardly care if you speak English. Complaining about immigrants not speaking English is an easy target to hit, especially since the people being complained about can’t argue back. That doesn’t mean they like foreigners who speak English. If they wanted to complain about you, they’d just pick some other thing that makes you “different.”

You’re still a foreigner, and there are enough fascists out there who don’t care what else you are.

That’s fun, reminds me of how French calls potatoes “apples of the earth” (pommes de terre.)

I just had raw peanuts for the first time this week and the taste was intriguing. It really brings home how they are “legumes” when they taste more like peas than peanut butter.

It isn’t common in the US, but I was lucky enough to grow up with it as a staple in my dad’s garden. Funny thing, our family referred to it by its Polish name, so I didn’t know the English word for it until I was a teenager.

More and more of that cheap tacky plastic crap littering front lawns.

The inflatable decorations are my pet-hate. If you don’t keep them running 24/7, they look like a bunch of garbage strewn across the lawn.

I’d even risk a ride on a Boeing to do it at this point.

Desperate times call for desperate measures

No, it’s just a very common mistake. You’re right, it’s supposed to be the other way around (“breath” is the noun, “breathe” is the verb.)

English spelling is confusing for native speakers, too.

There needs to be something about so-called “junk DNA” added to this.

This one little paragraph just explained my mom, myself, and the reason the relationship between us is so contentious.

She grows ever more closed-minded every year, while I attempt to learn a new skill every year. We never saw exactly eye-to-eye, but we’re now at a point where we might as well live in different universes. :(

I think of “the line” as the event horizon around a black hole. You can recognize it from a distance, but it’s not like there’s a physical barrier you go through when you pass it. That means that if you were actually falling into the hole, you wouldn’t necessarily know when you’ve past the “point of no return.” It’s all just more freefall (and eventual spaghettification) from your point of view. Only those on the outside, looking in, could see that you’re already full and truly screwed.

I think we passed the event horizon long ago. Anyone talking about “going back to normal” (as I’ve seen some politicians say) is depressingly naive. There is no turning back - the only way out is through.

Funny thing, I learned to roll my Rs by pretending to purr like a cat.

Oh man, the clothes thing. I have to consciously make it a point to remember what my nephews wear when I’m in charge of them. I’m terrified of losing sight of them and when asked, “What were they wearing?” I’d have no idea what to say.