The original Scotty from “Star Trek” was the best ever — not because of anything he did on the show (though he was awesome on the show), but because of this.“I got a fan letter from a young lady. It was a suicide note.
So I called her, and I said, “Hey, this is Jimmy Doohan. Scotty, from Star Trek.” I said, “I’m doing a convention in Indianapolis. I wanna see you there.”
I saw her — boy, I’m telling you, I couldn’t believe what I saw. It was definitely suicide. Somebody had to help her, somehow. And obviously she wasn’t going to the right people.
I said to her, “I’m doing a convention two weeks from now in St. Louis.” And two weeks from then, in somewhere else, you know? She also came to New York - she was able to afford to got to these places. That went on for two or three years, maybe eighteen times. And all I did was talk positive things to her.
And then all of the sudden — nothing. I didn’t hear anything. I had no idea what had happened to her because I never really saved her address.
Eight years later, I get a letter saying, “I do want to thank you so much for what you did for me, because I just got my Master’s degree in electronic engineering.”
That’s…to me, the best thing I’ve ever done in my life.”
i will reblog this as many damn times as i want because holy shit
Guh Scotty let me love you
Most people at the con didn’t notice him, he just walked around, sweeping things.
yay for being weird
is there anything else but weird aha
The first of a series of collaborative sci-fi story boards by Ness Hillman and myself. Wells in the crystal nebula. Acrylics and oils.
Only a few will understand what this is about…
I can die happy.
This is me this morning. It’s been 3 days since I’ve shaved my face or my chest, a week since I’ve shaved my legs, pits, or stomach.
The first day I was in post two-nights-of-Halloween-parties lazing around in my jammies mode, and I’ve gone a day without shaving before, so it wasn’t really a big deal. By yesterday, however, I realized something I’ve suspected for a while: there is a direct correlation between how much energy/will to be productive I have and how much hair is on my face. When my face is full of hair I don’t feel like doing anything.
Yesterday I didn’t get out of my pajamas or shower. I got up late, worked a 4-hour shift (I work from home, so this merely required sitting down at my computer) and then interneted in bed for the rest of the day despite the fact that my house still desperately needed to be cleaned from Saturday’s party and the baby blanket I’m knitting for my sister’s shower next weekend isn’t even halfway finished. It was kind of gross.
This is the first time I’ve ever taken pictures of myself with my hair grown out. Because I realized that though I’ve come a long way in the 18 years since the hair showed up, I’m still letting it hold me back in small ways, and I’m done with it. I don’t want to feel unclean if I haven’t shaved. I don’t want my energy levels and enthusiasm for life to be affected if my hair is grown out. I don’t want it to have that power over me anymore. I want to feel just as beautiful hairy as I do clean shaven.
So, I’m starting with this one day. Today I woke up, took these pictures, showered, put on an outfit that made me feel like me, and did the shit out of my day. Unshaven. Hairy as fuck. And it felt good. It felt really good. So good I even put on make up and did a naked photo shoot with my fiance (pictures to follow).
I’ll probably shave when I get up tomorrow. But in a week or so I’d like to try to go at least a week without shaving. Maybe even leave the house. Which would have been unthinkable not that long ago, but doesn’t seem quit as panic attack inducing now. Because I made it through today. I made it through this one day.
I am so inspired by this! Thanks for reminding me that the thing to get numb to is people’s reactions and not shame and hiding. :D
Greetings from SWHoop 2012!
Beautiful people and me :)
gettin reeeeeaal sick of your shit.
Let the drummer kick.