dfjdejulio.bsky.social
If you follow me and I have no idea who you are, I'm likely to block you.
2,501 posts
523 followers
122 following
Getting Started
Active Commenter
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Depends. What are you drinking?
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With some famous people! Lucy Liu was in my graduating class. A bunch of my friends studied under Frank McCourt (though I didn't).
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Oh, and as an aside, I'm 6'2" and used to lift weights. I am *not* a small man. For scale.
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…*somehow*, my wife has found purebreed cats that needed to be rescued. We had a Somali that was going to be put down for bullshit reasons, another that was injured at birth, an Abyssinian, today we have a Maine Coon and another Somali. All beautiful, all needed rescue for different reasons.
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Secret kitten underground! We went intending to get one kitten. One crawled into my hair, one into my wife's hair, we went home with two. That's our first cats.
Since then…
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"Are they going to be strictly indoor?"
"Yes."
"Okay, let me give you this *other* number."
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Our first two, we found an ad in a *newspaper*. Like, yes, tattooed dead trees. Said "kittens available" and had a phone number.
We called.
"Oh, those cats are gone, but let me ask you some things. Going to get them declawed?"
"No."
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I know how we do it, well, after our first two, but it's *really* strange.
I'll tell you how we got our first two before going into all the cats since. (We've always had multiple cats and have been married since 1995.)
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Her I am many years ago with my huge orange buddy. Our first cats were a brother and sister from the same litter. The guy bonded to me and the gal bonded to Nora.
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Did I ever show you a picture of our *first* cats, the ones we got shortly after we eloped? Hold on...
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Got exposed to a much larger, richer world. Happens when you draw from all of NYC via merit-based tests. First time I was in a really racially diverse environment, too. Formed good friendships with good and capable people.
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Part of it is that in elementary and middle school I was bullied. I'm pretty much a pacifist, but I'm also huge. Kids could feel brave by picking on the big kid who wouldn't defend himself.
Got to choose to go to that HS, and it was full of nerds like me. Huge improvement.
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But I live 400 miles away now, so I don't make as many as I'd like. Next year will be our 40th, going to try and make it. Going to have to be Amtrak as I refuse to fly these days.
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I attend HS reunions when I can. A *lot* of my high school class is still in touch with each other. But we were a strange high school. Best school in New York City, exam to get in, drew from all five boroughs.
This place:
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stuyves...
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(Sorry. I overshare. It's part of how I cope with stuff. Don't get me started on my own cancer. I actually have photographs!)
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I will say this. One thing I found out about my birth father is that he actually stayed by my birth mother's side until the adoption went through. So he's not actually completely horrible. Still not sure I need to ever find him.
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...she actually became really good friends with my dad (they couldn't stop thanking each other for me, him for her providing me and her for him raising me). She told *him*, and he offered to tell me, and I turned that down too.
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At least I know I won't be fulfilling any more! I don't get along with my mom, and I never even found out my birth father's name.
I actually had two chances to, but I explicitly turned them both down. My birth mother offered to tell me, and...
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It's like that in our house too. Walter the goofy gigantic white Maine Coon is glued to me. Barry the Ruddy Somali is glued to Nora.
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Well, if your cats are like our cats, beards can give an unfair advantage in these situations.
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(I'm usually better than that. I totally buy into the whole intersectional idea.)
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(Sorry. I should rather say it only works for people who inherit a Y chromosome, of which "cis male" is the most common but not only example.)
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That said, even without having kids, I do enjoy being six uncles (his uncle and her uncle and...), and my wife enjoys being six aunties.
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Our current cats:
bsky.app/profile/dfjd...
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Alas, it only really works properly for guys.
(And my wife and I have cats instead of kids.)
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A little later, I fulfilled my *dad's* dying wish (reconciling with my sister). I half-joke that I've fulfilled the dying wishes of two parents already, and I'm only half way through the set. If you don't laugh, you'll cry.
(Cancer in both cases, and now I've been battling two different cancers.)
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We became friends. I regret that I didn't get to know her until I found out she had cancer. Wanted to let her know giving me up gave me a good life while there was still time. We didn't have much time knowing each other, but I actually fulfilled her dying wish.
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Stopped calling my birth mother my X chromosome donor once we got in contact. She was actually really, really cool. Told me stories about doing clinic escorts and really getting under the skin of the conservative protestors.
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You're reminding me that sometimes people refer to some guy who I never knew as my "real" father, and it's always made me see red. No. I *know* my REAL father.
When I was a teenager I started calling the other fellow my Y chromosome donor.
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And I gotta say, the way my parents taught me about everything, I couldn't even *imagine* shame. Like, hey you kids who *weren't* adopted, you cannot actually know your parents wanted you. You can't trust that. It was impossible for me to have *any* doubt. I felt *superior*. At, like, seven!
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I know a bunch because I was an early adopter for DNA testing, because I was sick of answering "any family history of heart disease?" with "damned if I know!".
Through accidents and coincidences, this eventually put me in contact with my birth mother. Learned a ton.
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(*Mine* run off a small box in my basement that pull data from spinning oxidized metal, mind you, but I concede that many out there do.)
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Sure are!
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I'll admit that I'm curious what music a hippie chick and a med student might have been listening to in 1967...
It's bizarre. I was conceived before the Loving decision, but born after it. I have no idea if it would have applied... I'm half hispanic (Cuban), half random white lady.
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I've got to try photoshopping that cutie mark into a hammer and sickle.
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😃
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Wasn't this cut from @scalzi.com's recent novel?
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I would absolutely wear that shirt, if my wife wasn't constantly making me even more flamboyant ones.
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I'm guessing not, but if you want to suggest *how* I'm wrong, go ahead.
But before you do, I might mention that I have an actual old-school 80s-style machine room in my basement, and buisness-class fiber.
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I bet it's not exactly the same thing, but I've known I was adopted since I could talk, and I've been telling everyone around me the details for as long as I can remember.
(Did eventually find and become friends with my birth-mother briefly. Still don't even know my Y chromosome donor's name.)
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Huh. Maybe I should finally break down and give the original a try.
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...and yes, I fully understand that this is basically the modern version of one of those insufferable "I don't even own a TV" assholes. I'm still amused.
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I'm amused that I don't typically use a single thing shown in that picture.
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(If you see photos of me in *extremely* loud collared shirts, that's the fault of @lizardincrimson.bsky.social.)
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Fair.
My grandparents lived through the depression with small children, and this got *deeply* ingrained on my "silent gen" dad, and some of it rubbed off on me. So there are times when I penny pinch.
(On top of that my wife has a degree in essentially textile design, so, homemade clothing…)