- Go to wordpress.com
- Create a new website. Choose whatever category you think fits your blog best and whatever theme you like. You can just choose the free plan unless you want a custom domain for whatever reason.
- Click Settings on the sidebar.
Then click import at the top of the page and go to “Other Importers”
From the list that appears, choose “Tumblr”
You should be asked to log in. Once you do, all your blogs will appear in a list.
Simply click “Import this blog” and every single one of your posts, including all of their tags, will be imported into wordpress. It will take a very very long time but it should work. You will now have a wordpress website that contains an exact copy of your blog. I would recommend changing it to “Private” in the main settings if you don’t want people thinking that it is active, because at least I know I won’t actually leave tumblr unless it really does shut down, which I don’t think will happen.
Tag: queue you hear the people sing?
Ohhhh holy shit. @poplitealqueen
As promised, resources!
To crosspost to Dreamwidth from Tumblr using IFTT (this has been around a while, but IFTT requires programming skills I didn’t have, so it’s nice someone actually assembled the program for me)
To import an entire Tumblr to WordPress (For archival purposes primarily)
I feel like people maybe flipped out a little more than necessary, so I want to remind everyone that Yahoo tends to beat websites to death and then leave their corpses in the street – Del.icio.us was an anomaly in that respect – so it’s not like Tumblr’s going to disappear tomorrow. If Yahoo sells Tumblr we’ll hear about it first and have time to take appropriate measures.
(Who the fuck would buy Tumblr? Microsoft. Microsoft, owner of Bing, would buy Tumblr.)
That said, BACKING STUFF UP IS A GOOD IDEA. BACK UP YOUR SHIT. DO IT, LISTEN TO YOUR INTERNET FATHER. You know when I learned this? When in 2008 my livejournal was hacked and I lost five years of my life. I resurrected about 80%, and you know where that 80% came from? Google cache, Archive.org, and notification emails people happened to have saved. BACKUPS. And even then I had to copy and paste every post and repost it backdated. It took me eight months.
When del.icio.us was sold, data was lost, but more importantly, the data that remained had to be moved, which was when I discovered that about a quarter of the fanfics I’d bookmarked were now deleted, locked, or otherwise missing (this was pre-AO3 but fanfics can be deleted from AO3, and they can be deleted from Tumblr). I rescued a few from archive.org but I also lost a good number, which is why I use Evernote to archive not just the URLs but the stories themselves.
No technology is infallible, unhackable, virus-proof, or incorruptible. Back up your hard drive, or at least the parts with your favorite music and family photos. Back up your tumblr, or at least the entries that are important to you. Love that fanfic? Save a copy of it.
You know what happens to people who don’t back up their shit? They get sanctimonious but ultimately correct lectures from Reed Richards.
BACK YOURSELF UP. LEARN FROM TONY STARK.
Real Neko Atsume Cats
I know there’s already a similar post floating around, but I had already planned on making my own, and I had very specific breed headcanons! Also, this one includes the most recent cats :3
Something good in this world…
Things I never knew about depression until I finally had a doctor explain the disease to me
Depression can manifest as irrational anger.
My complete and total inability to keep anything clean or tidy for any amount of time is a symptom of my depression. I may never be able to do this. It’s important that I remember that and forgive myself when I clean something out (like my car) and it ends up trashed within a week.
Depression IS A DISABILITY. Requiring accommodations is okay.
Medications don’t make you better, they don’t cure your depression. They serve as an aid. Their purpose is to help you get to everyone else’s minimal level of functioning.
Depression can cycle through periods of inactivity. This doesn’t mean it’s gone away.
The reason I don’t feel like other people understand me is because … well … other people DON’T understand me. They can’t. They don’t have my disability.
Paranoia is par for the course.
Depression can and will interfere with your physical mobility. Forgive yourself when you can’t physically do something.
It’s entirely possible that I may never be able to live by myself. I can’t take care of myself. I need help to do it. And that’s okay.
“Your friendships shrink as you get older—unless you have a loose definition of friendship. I used to work with one of the richest guys in Philadelphia. He was seventy years old. He could have dinner with anybody in the city. But those aren’t the types of friends I’m talking about. I mean the people who really know you. I think it’s amplified for me because I’m still single. My friends have gotten married and had kids. They have less and less time to give. More and more people have come into their lives. But the amount of people in my life has stayed the same. I’ll text them to see if they want to go to a Phillies game. And I always get an immediate ‘yes.’ But something always comes up right before the game. They have to reschedule because ‘Ethan’s friend is having a birthday party,’ or ‘Sarah has a soccer game.’ It’s hard to not feel left out. I used to see these guys several times a week. Now it’s five or six times per year.”
Feuilly and Enjolras, obviously XD
It’s nearing midnight, probably, and Feuilly has been dozing on Enjolras’ shoulder, book long abandoned in his lap, for a good hour when Enjolras looks up from his own studies, blue eyes twinkling.
“You should go to bed,” he wraps an arm around Feuilly, trying to gently shake him awake. “You’ll hurt your neck and you’ll be exhausted tomorrow.”
Feuilly sighs deeply but doesn’t open his eyes.
“But y’hair smells good,” he mumbles, moving a little so he can settle more comfortably against Enjolras’ side. “’n it’s soft.”
Alright then, Enjolras smiles, and turns back to his book.
Again the smile or snarl from his Master. “You were a traitor, were you not, Lord Vader?”
Vader’s breathing caught on the hook of sudden anger. “What did you say?”
“To the Jedi. To Padmé. To Obi-Wan. To all those you loved.”
His Master turned to look at him, his eyes reflecting the flames.
Vader didn’t know the answer his Master wanted to hear, so he simply answered the truth. “Yes”.
-Lords of the Sith by Paul S. Kemp