Real life update! I went to the art gallery for a Ukrainian egg decorating class! The lady running it (Chris Reid! Look her up) has had exhibits at the gallery of her eggs, which she decorates with Baba Yaga houses, and a bipedal skeletal cat based off her husband. They are, frankly, gorgeous eggs.
There was also a pair of Russian (and one was half Ukrainian, with her Ukrainian mother) children there! I was gang-pressed into melting their wax for them because for some reason the small children weren’t allowed to put their fingers near open flames.
I went with my mother who managed to destroy three eggs. I made only one, but by god it survived. Most of my time was spent removing the apparently several inches thick layer of wax I’d added because I didn’t know how much was enough.
and all the linguists in the night vale fandom have a collective cheer
I…wow. I did not expect that. I continue to be taken by surprise by the sophistication of Night Vale writers’ grasp of the world. They repeatedly demonstrate the kind of understanding that is frankly shocking from straight white men and makes me think they must have had some really good friends throughout their lives.
“I wouldn’t necessarily mind people not knowing I’m gay, but I don’t like being thought of as straight — in the same way that I don’t mind people not knowing I’m a writer, but it would be awkward if they assumed I was an extreme skateboarder, because that’s so far removed from the reality of my life. But there is no blank slate where orientation is concerned; we are straight until proven otherwise. And if you’ve never seen how dramatically a conversation can be derailed by a casual admission of homosexuality, let me tell you, it gets awkward.”