RedHead Confetti

Trigger Warning: This blog deals with depression and Imposter Syndrome. It could be triggering for anyone who has to deal with these two things. If it would be too much for you, I urge you not to read it now, but when you're ready come back. I won't be pulling it down, so it'll be here when you're ready.   Imposter Syndrome, according to Wikipedia "is a term coined in 1978 by clinical psychologists Dr. Pauline R. Clance and Suzanne A. Imes referring to high-achieving individuals marked by an inability to internalize their accomplishments and a persistent fear of being exposed as a "fraud" .Despite external evidence of their competence, those exhibiting the syndrome remain convinced that they are frauds and do not deserve the success they have achieved. Proof of success is dismissed as luck, timing, or as a result of deceiving others into thinking they are more intelligent and competent than they believe themselves to be. Some studies suggest that im...

“I’m so proud of be an American… “ I grew up hearing people say that; hearing them singing, “God bless the USA” or “God Bless America”; hearing the derision and pity in their voices whenever they spoke about “those people” who weren’t blessed enough to be born in America. Even those poor Canadians weren’t quite good enough, they were from Canada, after all—if god really loved them, they’d have been born in America. This sort of thing never sat very well with me, only because it seemed so weird. I mean straight up, odd as shit, weird! Who in the hell is all excited about where they’re born?! It’s not like you told your parents before you got here, “Oh, I’d like to have you reserve a suite in Such-A-City on this day, in order for me to make my entrance into the world.” Nope, you’re just born wherever your mother happens to be at the time that hormones and baking time are right. I supposed I was proud, myself; but not because I’d put any thought into it, rather because I’...

I keep having this recurring dream. I know everyone does, at least if you can remember your dreams, chances are you have a couple, three, five, that repeat randomly. I've always had a couple, and they're very, very normal: late for class and can't remember my locker combination; taking a test, or giving a speech; being chased; flying, or swimming under water (curiously enough, I never drown, nor do I feel suffocated-- usually I'm able to breathe just fine, and always think, "Isn't that handy, my gills came back". No, I don't know why, but it's kinda nice.) These dreams seem to be a common thing for most of humanity; we have the same subconscious fears, so it makes sense that we'd have the same recurring nightmares/bad dreams/WTF was that shit! In fact, I think it makes perfect sense that we'd even dream, as a whole society or world, about being late for school or work, or falling, or being chased; especially the visceral nature of the cha...

We have been fostering kittens since April; this means we take them home, feed them, care for them, socialise them and love them to pieces until they reach the magical weight of two pounds. When they're at two pounds, they can handle the anaesthetic and surgery for sterilisation; much like us, they have to be healthy enough for surgery, and it's my job as a foster parent to help ensure this. The first group was ten kittens; two litters, one of six, and one of four. The six-litter was older, perhaps six weeks old; the four was barely three weeks, and all of them still had blue eyes! One group had been dropped off at the Hermitage, and the other was abandoned at Valley Animal Hospital-- in a tupperware bowl! Imagine our horror, those poor babies, just dropped off like they were rubbish to be left on the side of the road. We worried ourselves sick over the little dudes, as the tiniest ones (their names are Bavard and Finn, now!) were barely fifteen ounces when we got them. Kir...