About Me

Rest

My kids and I celebrated my dog’s birthday. We got him a new toy, gave him fancy food, and took him out to his favorite walking trail. The celebration was mostly for the kids, who took it very seriously and were all-around cute about it, while the dog seemed completely clueless but happy to eat. For us humans, we had brownies.

I don’t have much to say. I’ve spent most of the day feeling sleepy, probably recuperating from having a busy period.

I have a tendency to think that I should never be affected by anything, but between funerals and birthdays, it’s been kind of a lot. No wonder I’m feeling low energy. If I were talking to someone else in these circumstances, I’d say, “Rest! Don’t beat yourself up!”

So I will be kind to myself and rest.

About Me

All you have to offer

While I was out driving, the light turned green and cars went through the intersection… except for the car immediately in front of me. They clearly weren’t paying attention, so I honked. As the car started to move forward, a hand shot out of the window to flip me off.

Instead of feeling hurt or offended, it was more a blasรฉ sense of, “Yup. Toxic people signal themselves.” Compulsively, imo.

Way back when I was 21, there was a huge amount of pressure to not judge someone. If they were rude in public, you were expected to make excuses for them. If you cut someone out of your life because they flipped off other cars in traffic, then you were the bad person. Don’t judge someone off of minor bad habits.

Except, those little things really are the sum total of some people.

I spent years sitting in the passenger seat, attempting to hide my face in embarassment while the driver flipped other cars off. I also spent years wanting there to be more depth and complexity to that person, but ultimately that never happened. Behind the scenes in private, that person was every bit as entitled and hostile as he was in traffic.

So remember, the next time someone flips you off, that’s probably all that person has to offer.

About Me

Beautiful Soul

I attended a funeral, and the service was deeply meaningful. The person who passed had special needs, so they didn’t have the usual list of accomplishments — no career, marriage, or children to enumerate. Instead, they had a family that loved them deeply and was grateful they existed.

It was a reminder that at the core of it, no matter what we’re handed in life, there are people who are grateful that we exist. People who care about what our favorite songs are and the quirks that set us apart. People who are happy that they got to know us as we are.

So keep existing, beautiful soul.

Person hiking on rocky desert path with backpack at sunset
About Me

Reflections on a Frozen Dinner and Hike Experience

Today I ate a frozen turkey pot pie — heated in the microwave, of course — with rice. I made two batches of rice, actually, because the first one came out severely under-cooked, which is probably the first time I ever failed at rice in my entire life.

It finally dawned on me that since I’m no longer obligated to kiss anyone, I am now free to wear glitter lip gloss. I bought iridescent, and the sparkle feels so pretty.๐Ÿ’‹

I went on a sunset hike. The horizon was hazy today, making the sunset more subtle but still gorgeous. I stayed up on the mountain a bit longer to gaze at the city lights before returning home.

The last freeze apparently hit the scrub oak hard, and many of the trees had dead leaves. Spring can be brutal like that.

I had a vivid dream last night about a monster that was a cross between Freddy Krueger and Vecna from Stranger Things. It was the sort of dream that left me a little surprised that I didn’t wake up scared, but I dreamed right on through to the resolution … which was apparently the monster vanishing and me realizing that I didn’t have to warn people about him anymore. Anticlimactic, but still an ending.

I’m noticing that it’s difficult for me to reconstruct my day in writing, but that’s exactly why I’ve decided to do this on my blog. The best way that I can explain it is that my writer’s memory needs to be strengthened again, and the best way to do that is to write.

Even when writing feels awkward and terrible.

Woman resting on couch watching fantasy TV show in dimly lit living room
About Me

A Day in My Life: Food and Reflections

Today for lunch I ate buttered noodles with garlic powder, lemon pepper, and Parmesan cheese. I accidentally put on too much lemon pepper, though, so it wasn’t what I was hoping for … I’m not a fan of peppery-ness.

And for dinner, I had a BLT with slightly burnt bacon, so it was extra crispy.

I didn’t feel particularly good today. Last night I had a bad dream about someone that I used to know, and spent the entire day with a headache. Yes, I tried drinking water. However, I did spend some time outside tossing a toy for my dog, and I finished a woven wall hanging that I intend to put up in the bathroom — I count that as good enough.

Decided to watch this video on a whim, and found it very relatable:

A glowing ember surrounded by gray ash and charred remains
About Me

Blogging for the Sake of It: Finding Joy in Writing

It occurs to me that I’m never going to have the energetic enthusiasm of a 14-year-old ever again.

I often feel a lot of pressure to say something insightful, emotionally mature, or whatever, but … life sucks. Oh yeah sure, I gained wisdom and empathy. I was betrayed and my life was destroyed, but that good ol’ empathy will console me, as if I didn’t have too much of it in the first place. Har har. It’s like the phone games I play where I get awarded coins with every level I finish, only I don’t actually know what they’re used for, so they just accumulate. Uselessly. What do I do with all this wisdom and empathy? IDK. I’m really here to sort different colors into boxes with ASMR sound effects, not earn coins.

Anyway, I should probably get to my point.

I’m now 38, and enthusiasm isn’t in the cards for me right now. I’m probably not going to wake up one day and realize that it’s exciting to keep a blog. It’s effort.

I get it. I went through something traumatic. My life swirled down the toilet and I couldn’t do a thing to stop it. Everything I was came to an end, and afterwards when I was left completely alone with only my thoughts to keep me company, I realized that I hate cooking. All those years I wasted on something that I don’t actually enjoy, but I thought that I was supposed to. Just gimme a bowl of raisin bran, I really can’t be bothered.

But I still want to keep a blog. Just because.

That’s it. No grand reason. No passion, no goals, no audience, no enthusiasm. Just me maintaining the blog because.

So we’re going to pass on the idea of quality in favor of quantity. I need to get back into the habit of writing regularly, and what better way to do that than to tell you what I had for lunch every day?

Totino’s frozen party pizza, supreme. Tastes like being a teenager again. Probably the closest I’m going to come to excitement.

I also mowed my lawn today, got grass clippings in my socks, and worked on weaving. I had the kitchen door open while I washed the dishes so my dog could sun himself just outside in the fresh Spring air, and the moment felt charmingly cute.

Aside from the dirty dishes.

art

Don’t Stab Your Eye

I told ChatGPT about how, whenever I see someone sporting really long fingernails, I have random paranoid thoughts about the person accidentally injuring their eye with their nails.

One joke led to another, and without thinking I suggested that we turn it into a tshirt.

So ChatGPT generated an image of what that would look like. ๐Ÿ˜‚

Vintage typewriter and scrolls on a desk overlooking a mythical castle through a window.
About Me

Creating Cohesion in Runemaster: A Writer’s Journey

I’ve started sorting through the numerous handwritten pages I have for Runemaster to pull it together in a way that makes sense.

Now, I’m not going to claim that the first half makes sense — I’m going to claim brain damage on that, since I don’t know how to explain what was happening in my personal life behind the scenes. You ever have those periods where everything is always wrong and trying to fix it only makes the other person angrier? It’s confusing and draining, and it apparently turned my writing ability into crap.

But anyway, despite that I still think the first half is workable after plenty of heavy editing. The second half is where my mind really fell apart.

Apparently, I have FOUR versions of how the second part starts.

I’m impressed by my tenacity, because I didn’t realize that I still managed to put so much effort into writing despite my life being utterly destroyed around me. We’re talking pages of false starts here. Not paragraphs. PAGES.

I’ve decided that the best way to move forward is to consolidate the four versions into one, so I know for certain which direction I’m going. It’s about time we finally get some sort of cohesion around here.

I have also decided on a central theme for the story, to serve as the structural backbone for the plot:

Betrayal.

Any resemblance to real life is purely a coincidence and blah blah blah. Oh I’m just kidding! ๐Ÿ˜‚ I’m going to be pouring out my soul, oozing every emotional anguish onto the page. My pain will be my art. There are a thousand ways that small betrayals can play out, woven into the story as almost indistinguishable threads. I’m rather excited about portraying this, in a cathartic sort of way. As I learned, the Big Betrayal is often preceded by numerous small betrayals, and and people are trained into “betrayal blindness” as a matter of survival.

Let’s do this! Malachi and Lyra, we’re going to advance your plot! Finally.

I really do have tons and tons of solitude these days, and aside from all the warm fuzzies I get from knowing that I’m safe when I’m alone, I can also hear myself think. I now feel satisfied with the emotional processing that I’ve done, so it’s time to move my life forward and actively pursue my dreams again.

Stories

Concept Story – Astra & Corin

I’m experimenting with file sharing between devices and also testing out a new compact keyboard (which mostly feels normal except for some of those middle keys), so I wrote this. Because why learn with boring content when you can exercise your creativity?

This is the same idea that I wrote about here with this concept story, only I like the new names better and I am now more mature as a person. ๐Ÿ˜†

Also, between you and me, the AI generated picture for this story is hilarious. ๐Ÿคฃ


Astra hefted Corin on her back, her eyes locked on the boughs of the pine tree above them. She adjusted the four-year-oldโ€™s grip around her neck, but his arms squeezed uncomfortably tight. โ€œHey,โ€ she whispered. โ€œLet me breathe, will you?โ€ She tugged at his arm again. โ€œIโ€™m going to run to that house over there, so you need to be good for me, okay?โ€

Corin remained silent and his arms stayed stubbornly in place. Astra glanced towards the house and gave herself permission to briefly feel scared that the front door would be locked despite the broken windows, then her eyes went back to the pine tree branches.

โ€œWhen They start to move away, thatโ€™s when Iโ€™ll run. They wonโ€™t see us, I promise.โ€ She felt the four-year-oldโ€™s face press into her back, so she reached to pat his head. โ€œYou know that Iโ€™d never let anything bad happen to you, right? Weโ€™re going to be okay. They wonโ€™t see us.โ€

The thought that Corin believed and trusted her made Astra feel more certain in herself. She wouldnโ€™t fail him, no matter what โ€“ sheโ€™d find a way to keep her word and preserve the innocence that had been entrusted into her care. She wouldnโ€™t allow herself any other options.

Besides, Corinโ€™s half-brother wouldnโ€™t forgive her if something happened to the child, and sometimes Astra thought that she was more afraid of him than of Them.

โ€œOkay โ€ฆ Okay โ€ฆโ€ Astra closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, then her hands clamped Corinโ€™s legs against her sides and she jogged as best as she could towards the house. She forced herself to keep her eyes on the ground to ensure her footing through the overgrown grass, rather than checking the sky to see if They had noticed. The clearing felt impossibly long. Her heart beat harder with the fear that she had made the wrong decision with every footstep, until finally her legs strained as she darted up the steps of the house. The front door opened easily, allowing them into safety.

About Me

Debunking Divorce Movie Tropes: Real-life Perspectives

I’ve been watching lots of movies about divorced women lately, and a very common trope is the main character showing bitter jealousy over the ex-husband’s much younger new girlfriend. Reality is … well, different.

For starters, younger does not equal hotter. Instead of bitter jealousy, it’s more of a vague, “Huh, so that’s who you managed to scrape up.” Youth is not threatening, so much of a reminder of what it was like to be naieve, idealistic, and — frankly — easier to control. Snagging a 20-year-old who’s eager for literally any male attention is nowhere near as difficult as winning the affection of a 40-year-old who has learned discernment.

And ho boy the social judgment.

Movies don’t portray what everyone thinks of the ex-husband for dating someone half his age. Outside of the “manosphere” it totally ruins a man’s reputation, and he’s seen as both exploitative and immature.

It might just be the social script, but when a woman’s husband leaves her, there really are a hundred voices ready to chime in with “You’re too beautiful for him. You’re better off without him.” Sincere or not, it does help enormously with emotional processing. A woman isn’t left feeling old and bitter, so much as he becomes a selfish, blind … you-know-what.

Anyway, despite all that I’ve still been enjoying my divorce-themed movies, though I do think that they should end with something other than, “She found a new man.” There is more to life, you know, and strengthening bonds with relatives, neighbors, and friends counts for a lot more than fiction admits.

Being allowed to think, feel, and dream as an individual is pretty good.