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We’ve always known there’s something seriously, horrifically wrong with Cecily. But her sister, who just met Cecily for the first time recently, might be realizing this for the first time — while mourning the loss of her only child. I feel awful for her.
her wording makes me think so as well: “I reached out to my pulmonologist”You're right: this is foreshadowing.
Lotta crossover in HAPE prophylactic meds and chronic pulmonary meds.
Cecily discovering she's not able to tolerate 5,000 feet above sea level is like when you walk a pneumonia patient around the unit to check if they're safe to discharge home on room air.
It's so interesting how she has to phrase that. "I'll breathe easier in a smaller body." That's just a terminology-laundering of "I'll be less short of breath if I lose weight," to avoid trigger words.
No, 30%. She's saying to keep it under 30%, it would have to be $800 or less, which isn't available, so they pay 70% - by my very loose calculations, that would be $1,900, which fits the average rent in Philly according to Zillow /autism70 percent of their income is $800? So this "monthly income" is some 5 hour a week garbage gig.
Philly, where they have no ties forcing them to deal with higher cost of living. They have no family or jobs in Philadelphia and could drastically slash their outgoings if they moved somewhere more affordable.$1,900, which fits the average rent in Philly
I can only imagine they all enjoy poverty larping. I don't expect any of these nitwits to make a single sound financial decision. What would Cecily be able to whine about if she wasn't manufacturing her own oppression?Philly, where they have no ties forcing them to deal with higher cost of living. They have no family or jobs in Philadelphia and could drastically slash their outgoings if they moved somewhere more affordable.
No, 30%. She's saying to keep it under 30%, it would have to be $800 or less, which isn't available, so they pay 70% - by my very loose calculations, that would be $1,900, which fits the average rent in Philly according to Zillow /autism
I Am Not Accountable
At least not to strangers on the internet.
CECILY KELLOGG
DEC 17
In 2016 a post I wrote about losing my twins that went huge. It was roughly the 90,873rd time I’d written that story, but this one was the most viral of anything I ever wrote, landing me nearly a million views, multiple news and press interviews, and more.
Including a book publishing offer from an editor at Random House.
Excited, I found myself a literary agent, she signed me immediately and then she sent an example of a book proposal to mimic and send back to her and then we’d work on honing together with the editor to get a great contract. No problem! If I can generate 50K words about affiliate marketing, surely I can do the same for my own story.
Amazing.
Guess what happened next?
Not one goddamn thing. I barely looked at the proposal she sent me, I dodged her emails and those from the editor, and just let it… drift away.
For a long time, I thought it was because I couldn’t bear to put myself out there again after years of online abuse. I told myself it was a smart decision to walk away. The editor wanted a memoir about infertility, but my kid was nine at that point and I couldn’t bear to revisit that nightmare. Then Trump won the election and I felt it would paint too big a target on my back. When I got my neurospicy diagnosis, I blamed my lack of executive function.
That was all bullshit.
I just gave too many fucks.
When I launched my blog, I had no tools to wall myself off from the nasty stuff folks said about me, so I thought the best plan was to fight fire with fire. To offer explanations and insights into my choices and plans. But it just made it worse, and my writing suffered as I tried to anticipate their objections and offer explanations in advance. It just got worse and eventually, my writing sucked.
So I walked away. And I know I’ve also told this story before, but the ending is different now because a few months ago I realized something:
I do not owe strangers on the internet anything.
I am not accountable to strangers on the internet.
I do not need to meet the standards of strangers on the internet — particularly when those standards are based on the toxic combo of christianity and capitalism.
I no longer have any fucks to give about what you think of me, my life, or my writing.
Time to write accordingly.
Bitch is supposed to be a writer and her first sentence is a grammatical clusterfuck like that? The rest isn't much better. Holy shit she's stupid.In 2016 a post I wrote about losing my twins that went huge.