The one where I watch Zootopia

Alright, I'm just going to stream of consciousness this. I'm on my laptop so I'll go back later and add reaction gifs if I think they'd be appropriate, but for now I'm just starting with a bulleted list.

Gotta love a good bulleted list.

Upon further review of the play, I can't insert gifs easily into a bulleted list. So I'm just going to go for a normally typed double-spaced affect.

Alright, the small rabbit just got rape-threatened but it's cool because she got her friend's carnival tickets back.

There are seriously obvious implications that all the "prey" are girls and all the predators are fuck boys.

Or there's super racial stuff going on. I can't tell. She's still in her hometown. Let's see how it works once she gets to the disgustingly homosexual big city.

"Aren't there any fox ice cream stores you could go to?" 

OMG that's just what I thought. Elephant noses are disgusting mucus membranes.

"It's rare that I find someone so non-patronizing." He said that with a straight face I'm going to die.

So...basically this guy is a hipster Robin Hood.

Jesus Christ Disney these rabbits have 400 other children by this point and they still have time to call their little baby bunny in the big city? 

Oh, geez. A suspenseful villain chase through the smallest part of town. If only there was a new cop on the force who's approximately the same size.

Emmitt Otter? Surely they mean Emmet Otter's Jugband Christmas?

I think Bellwether is my favorite.

I'm so glad that amongst all the stereotypes this movie is supposed to be fighting, the fat gay one is still a hilariously reliable trope.

He's fucking typing it slow the hell down.

My Netflix just lagged and I seriously thought it was still part of the bit.

NOBODY saw that visual gag coming. "Mr. Big?" Well played.

 So...they're like zombies or something.


Nick's fucking back story.

You have to get enthusiastic consent to touch a sheep's wool.

American Horror Story: Zootopia

I want to know what the hell is going on with the fish and birds.

YOU'RE THE WORST AT PRESS CONFERENCES.

Awww. Bullies just feel scared to be themselves.

Oh okay. The "savages" are just tripping on bath salts.

Dang Mr. Big's daughter about to have hundreds of babies.

Cool. The Walter White character showed up.

FUUUUCK Bellwether I trusted you!

"It starts with all of us."

EPIC SHAKIRA DANCE PARTY ENDING.

Stale Mate

Now-hubby and I have reached a bit of an impasse with our relationship. After four sessions with the therapist, things weren't progressing. That's the standard relationship cut-off point, yeah? Four dates to figure out whether the two of you are trying for forever?

To be perfectly clear, we weren't trying to date our therapist. I'm being explicitly facetious about "standard" relationship progression in order to express frustration with how much time and effort I've invested for the minimal changes within our relationship. Our therapist was phenomenal. She had a lot of insights into how Now-hubby and I operate as a couple. In the end, I decided to discontinue couples therapy because it started to feel like an "easy" fix for Now-hubby. Talk in front of a professional: one hour, once a week. Address a lot of issues in the way we understand each other and how things have gone down since capital-T Thursday. Make the absolute minimal effort to adapt our relationship outside of that weekly hour.

Which is not to say the therapy train has let the station. I've got two appointments set for early December with psychiatrists. The only reason for the time delay is I wanted to narrow the field to fit some strict criteria. I'm considering letting somebody alter the way my brain works chemically; I'd like them to have at least a 4/5 star rating from previous patients. Also important: a pysch that's taking new patients and has an actual human I can talk to when I call their office. Don't worry, dear readers, I'll be posting on how the medicinal approach to what previous therapists have diagnosed as "generalized anxiety disorder" goes.

Next week will mark the two month anniversary of capital-T Thursday. Two months in which Now-hubby and I haven't so much as kissed on the mouth. I've reached lows I haven't since when I was still living at home. Now-hubby's waiting for me to match the emotional intensity he's got going on in his other relationship. I'm waiting for his NRE (new relationship energy) rose-colored glasses to fade back to standard UV levels.

It'll be another two months before I can even start the discussion of changing the way I address reality. By that time, I don't know what color Now-hubby's glasses are going to be.

I don't know if it will matter.