May 8th
I love the thing where I remove my bra and I can inventory everything I ate earlier today by what falls out. ~
I got myself a foot bath to celebrate publishing a book the first time in (cough cough cough) a few minutes. One of those things where it heats up the water and has massage rollers in it. Aside from wishing it had a wider stance (my feet don’t like to be this close together), it’s really nice. I’m sitting here with my feet marinating right now.
Normally I don’t do a lot of sitting. I’m either walking outside/on treadmill, using my standing desk, or lying in my bed. So my feet are tired from all the standing up. Cooking them is really nice. Also my feet aren’t cold for once, which is also nice. I wonder if it’s safe to put magnesium salts in? I should probably open the manual.
I’m gonna try writing like this for a minute and see how it goes. I might be too sleepy/cozy to actually get words out lol
~
Today I was wearing leggings for the first time in a while, and I caught a look at my backside in the mirror, and I was like, “hey gurl whassup”
My wardrobe became mostly maxi dresses and flowy yoga pants the last couple years. I was a total fashion doll for a minute there. Really enjoyed some funky queer fashion. Nowadays I’m all “Hello, the Lord of Comfort has arrived, and I shan’t be bothered by plebeian things like WAISTBANDS”
(Rejecting waistbands is related to digestive health issues which I shall not discuss to spare y’all the TMI)
But I have been doing a lot of minor hikes (couple miles, no noteworthy elevation gain) and walking the dogs, and I think that just moving my butt has made my butt Perk Up. There is something resembling shape going on. And I am definitely prideful enough to give myself an eyebrow-wag when I notice I’m packing junk in the trunk.
It’s really frustrating how much you really do need exercise — even the smallest bits of it — in order to look good and feel good. Who made THAT rule? Not the Lord of Comfort, that’s for sure.
May 11th
Note to self: whenever I’ve been cutting my hair for a minute, and I think I should stop, but then think “how much worse can I make it?”
…the answer is MUCH WORSE. PUT THE SCISSORS DOWN.
~
I have this theory that a solid 75% of relationships are based on one dynamic:
– Person who loves talking
– Person who loves that they don’t have to talk
I’m the talker, but really *only* with my spouse. My spouse is not a huge talker. Great listener. Genuinely loves not having to hold up his end of a conversation.
This was also my maternal grandparents! My Grandma kissed the Blarney Stone (literally and figuratively) whereas Grandpa would prefer to sit in silence with his roofing tools.
~
Omg. I fell hard while gardening, and my French bulldog dgaf. Didn’t even check on me. Just kept yorping at the neighbor dog. Rude!
Lassie! Mommy fell down! Get help! …Lassie? LASSIE!
~
My back yard has gotten to be a disaster after a few years of neglect. A beautiful disaster, mind you. Tree suckers everywhere. We haven’t paid attention in so long that we have some big proper trees out of nearly nowhere.
A new elm – I like it, and it’s somewhere it can stay.
A Russian olive – the birds must have made that one. I cut it back severely.
A maple – much too close to our house and must get removed, but at this point we need some heavy-duty equipment because the trunk’s gotten 2-3″ in diameter and the shears can’t do it.
And then a hundred little elm & maple saplings.
Plus, the modest lil baby trees that were in our yard when we got it a decade ago have become real proper big trees, and I am humbled in their presence. They’re amazing to experience.
Still, these things must be tended somewhat. I took big ol chompers to all the little saplings and suckers. I’ve gotten used to (what feels like) cruelty to my house plants, since I know now that pruning and death is just a gardener’s life. I was out there for quite a while trying to open up the paths again, since they’d been overtaken by growth.
The biodiversity in plants now that we no longer groom/cultivate a “park-like appearance” (like the house listing originally said) is honestly just stunning. I love letting things overgrow. I can’t let it threaten foundations or creep over to neighbors’ yards for practical purposes, but it’s like this chunk of Nevada foothills or something, and it’s mine to take care of. I feel very magical and special about it.
May 13th
it rained real hard today, absolutely spectacular early summer storm. (it’s early summer by nevada weather standards.) two hours of great thunder and pissing rain! then sun just in time for golden hour. warm night thereafter. we saw SO MANY toads out on a short walk. <33 BIG GUYS. hand-sized.
May 15th
Did you know if you want to finish a book, you have to know how it ends?
You can’t just set a word count goal and meet it? You have to like…actually finish the story?
May 16th
Today a woman asked me if my 9yo was my little brother, AND she let me pet her dogs for like 20 minutes, so I’m gonna be riding that energy for at least a week.
May 18th
I grew up in the 90s watching a lot (a LOT) of TV, along with my sibling Rory. My spouse did not. He watched Star Trek: TNG and basically nothing else.
It’s easy to forget we had culturally divergent childhoods (lol) until I’m rewatching FRIENDS.
theme song: so no one told you life was gonna be this way
me and rory: CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP
spouse: ?!??!?!?!?!
basically every 23 minutes on the dot, we shock him out of his headphones again. hahahaha
May 19th
Someone recommended I use emu oil on my gauged ears, so I got some emu oil, and I’ve been using it. And then I was like “huh I wonder what is in this anyway” so I looked it up–
EMUS! Emus are in emu oil. I have no idea why I thought “emu oil” was like, a brand name. EMU Oil. IT’S EMUS.
I? don’t? know? why? this? bothers? me? BUT IT DOES. Now I’m like omg I should have just used coconut oil or something. I eat animals, why does rubbing animal oil on my ears bother me?? But it does! I’m floored that I’m rubbing emu on my ears.
I’m so sorry emu bb
May 23rd
Apparently my kid’s school is having a “market day” where we have to provide some hand-crafted thing for kids to buy. With fake money. Somehow this has led to 9yo saying “WE are going to make crocheted keychains,” wherein WE means MOMMY because nobody else in this house knows what to do with a crochet hook.
My $15/tiny skein furry yarn (for tribbles) and hardware (eyes, keychain) and my labor (PRICELESS) are just like…randomly committed to this market day thing. hours of crocheting. so that children who like skibidi toilet can get the fruits of my work using fake money. these other smelly children at school bully my child, tell on him because he’s not Christian, etc. and i’m supposed to, what, donate crap to these little turdlets?
look, i am just not that kind of mommy. i am not remotely saintly; i am a feral dirtbag with a vagina. school needs to assign things to children that children can do on their own. if kids are so excited about getting free stuff, they should make the free stuff.
but apparently every mommy is making something for this market day.
i am not that kind of human. i got alllll the way through public school without doing homework at home, even once. i did it between classes, mostly, or i didn’t do it at all. solid C-student. you know what they say, Cs get diplomas.
school has found me anyway. and i love my child *madly*, and i would make him infinite keychains…if he were keeping them…and i spend a whole lotta time with him, doing stuff for him, preparing fun things to do together. making stuff for this is really not outside the realm of normal. but i feel DEEPLY resentful in the context (school assigning HOMEWORK TO ME).
not looking for advice or fixes, i’m rage-crocheting all day today. i just HAVE to complain about this. i really can’t over-emphasize how i’ve hated school my entire life and it failed to occur to me that having kids would mean i’d be dealing with utter nonsense again.
May 29th
If I catch myself ruminating on conflicts I’ve had in the past — or insults people inflicted upon me — I now stop myself by thinking, “You didn’t know. And they didn’t know.”
There is so much we don’t know. We learn all the time. Experiences pile upon experiences. Whatever everyone needed to know to avoid conflict (because I really believe folks aren’t *generally* out for a fight), we didn’t have the information required to avoid that friction.
I didn’t know how to be better. They also didn’t know how to be better. The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows talks of Énouement: “the bittersweetness of having arrived here in the future, finally learning the answers to how things turned out but being unable to tell your past self.”
We all go through it. This is part of life. It’s gonna keep happening until this life ends and we have to learn again.
If you’re one of the people who butts heads with me because I Didn’t Know What I Needed to Know, I’m sorry. That’s just where I was (where I am, where I will be). And if you and I have butted heads before, just know that I’m not super hung up on it. I assume you didn’t know either. We’re all good in my book.
June 3rd
I’ve been taking my homeschooled 13yo to brunches and it’s soooo nice, sitting on the edge of a fancy golf course with my lil baby (now 6′ tall baby) with nice table manners having a civilized conversation and eating fancy brunch food. Maybe I can call this homeschool too? Making sure they are suitable for existing in society? lol
They are so lovely to hang out with though :’))) We walk to brunch and back, so we get all the fresh air and time to chat about their interests. And I get to sneak in lectures, like when I did the hour-long lecture about the politics and production of Fritz Lang’s Metropolis.
We are still behind on math, but on all the other subjects, I have a very bright kiddo who is extremely interesting as a human.
(If you cannot imagine someone as feral as me near a golf course, I don’t blame you. But I treat it like attending church, which I have done for research. I cover my tattoos, switch to my least-punk piercings, dress appropriately, and pretend I’m a normie. CAMOUFLAGE)
June 4th
I’ve been wondering how AI is going to change colloquial English, and formal English in the long term.
What AI puts out is either loopy junk or chunks of directly copied text, remixed, but it’s what an increasing number of people are familiar with.
Kids are having papers written and proofread by AI, on a big scale. On a small scale, a lot of people are getting edited by software that’s frequently *wrong*, but consistently wrong, like autocorrect, spell check, and Grammarly. Folks are learning from this. They are adapting to echo these differences. They’re learning punctuation, syntax, etc from this stuff.
The more people use language in these ways, the greater proportion of people who use a language in a particular way, the more that language is Just Like That.
I feel funny about this. I accept languages will change — and who am I to be arbiter of the *way* these things change, really? If it’s influenced in a way that looks like junk to me, isn’t that kind of the history of the world? The old generation thinks the new generations are junky? My generation is annoyed by The Youths’ skibidi fanum tax gyatt and my parents’ generation was annoyed by yolo yeet on fleek. Vibe.
I love reading old fiction. I can see how conventions have changed over a century or more. The paragraph-long compound sentences with an abundance of commas are my favorite. Heck, I was just reading a 1989 book review from the New York Times and jarred by how formal it was, how long the sentences, how clunky it felt. That’s (barely) within my lifetime!
So right now AI-influenced or -edited crap feels like crap to me. But I wonder if that’s going to be standard at some point, and the way I write is gonna feel stilted/formal/old-fashioned. Or maybe I already do “feel” that way? I mean, gosh, I spent three years writing elf fanfic about gothic romance. My vocabulary has taken weird directions.
I’m not saying any of this in support of AI; I remain opposed. I just also think education has left a gap where machines can profoundly shape the way we communicate because people don’t know any better, and will have less reason to know “better” as time goes on.
I’m comfortable with remaining a relic of my time, but I’m also observing this like, “Huh.” As neutrally as I can manage when my biases are so strong.
June 14th
Spotting a used pregnancy test box in the Target bathroom trash can is quite the environmental storytelling.
~
I’ve always had a hard time with self-esteem in the looks department, but lately I keep seeing myself and being startled by how pretty I look.
I think it’s just that I so strongly resemble my mom and my 13yo, like a perfect in-between of the two of them, and the two of them are the most beautiful people on the planet. So I see them when I look at myself, and I’m like, omg so pretty.
June 19th
Sibling: It’s funny that your Spouse was so horrified by Insomniac Cafe. I laughed through most of it.
Me: I know, he’s so sweet. Spouse was especially bothered when the Phoebe character gave birth to… (*remembers 13yo is sitting in the room*) Well when she gave birth to what she gave birth to.
13yo: What did she give birth to?
Me: Dog-sized cockroaches.
13yo: I’m never asking you questions ever again.
June 22nd
9yo Sunshine: Whatcha doing?
Me: Preparing 8th grade math to continue homeschooling Moonlight.
Sunshine: Aww, you’re like a little teacher. That’s cute.
Me: You’re cute.
Sunshine: You should homeschool me too. I’d be a lot less stressed.
Me: omg but what about MY STRESS
I had to come up with a persuasive lecture on the spot about why public school is much more ideal for everyone involved. I think I convinced Sunshine he does not actually want Mommy to be his “little teacher,” although that’s freakin adorable.
~
I’ve been back in the gym for the last few weeks. It feels like a big deal but I’m not talking about it because I don’t wanna curse my new-old routine. I lifted real hard and consistently for almost six years, and now I’ve been off for almost four years. Here’s what I’m noticing:
My body remembers everything. I lost a ton of squat strength, but for some reason, not a lot of arm strength. The movements themselves are still easier. I don’t feel like a newbie, just like I’m not conditioned. (Which is true, but I thought it would be worse when I’d been sedentary for so long.)
Muscle size has rebounded quickly, just because of all the initial swelling/water retention/whatever. Especially in my arms, dude. It’s like my arms/shoulders were just waiting for the opportunity to go full gorilla mode again.
I feel…less neurodivergent? better-regulated? when I’m lifting regularly. I think it’s because sore muscles give me a better sense of my body’s position in the world. Bad interoception can come along with a spicy brain. I’m sure it’s also all the neurochemicals produced while working out too.
I AM EXHAUSTED. I only lift for 30-45 minutes every other day, but I go as heavy as I can manage with good form. It’s enough to leave me utterly slammed with fatigue. It would be okay if I didn’t have to be on top of my kids. It’s summer break, after all. I can’t nap all day! My 9yo decides I’ve gotten enough sleep at 8am and climbs on me!
It’s extremely weird going to old gyms where I was accustomed to seeing myself as a size US 4 and now be a size US 16. Same place, same routine, completely different body. And my face is old! Covid aged me! But then I just have to lift really hard until I stop caring and it’s fine again. lol.
Generally it’s been nice and I feel good and I just want to sleep all the time. I look forward to being able to powerlift heavier than I used to (gimme like six months, I was never very strong) and being an utter tank.
June 24th
I’m writing the first draft of a novel in a notebook. I write totally differently in each format (typing on computer, writing by hand, dictation) and handwriting is a slow less-detailed format that somehow feels zero commitment. It’s liberating.
No idea how many words I’ve written. Can’t make much story progress in a sitting, so I think a lot between sessions. I’ll probably rewrite mostly from scratch when it’s time to type it. I’m not producing anything usable so it feels more fun and less work. I love getting to use pens.
Dictating is a high-volume method of writing that is invariably messier — not just with transcription errors but because I use way more words when I talk vs type. I do much trimming/editing.
I’m REALLY practiced writing by keyboard so that’s quick, most polished, and feels like actual work.
I can dictate a shocking number of words. Like 4k an hour when I get on a roll. I haven’t been doing that much lately because I’m usually working on fantasy with crazy vocab that doesn’t transcribe well.
My absolute max typing is 3k/hr (but usually 2k) and I would guess I hand write 1k/hr.
Typing makes the most sense because it’s highest precision with good output, but it’s just not much fun tbh. Like I said…it feels like work.
I don’t wanna feel committed to this book because I’m now editing Insomniac Cafe (horror satire) and planning to publish ‘Atop the Trees, Beneath the Mountains’ this year. I don’t need another project. But if I just handwrite an hour before bed each day, it doesn’t count! This one is in the same universe as Atop the Trees, but it’s in a different county, different characters, no direct relationship with ATTBTM. You know, like how Rylie used to have nothing to do with Elise. lol
June 30th
I’ve been trying to parse what has really changed about me the last ~4 years, aside from gaining a lot of weight and getting sober. I know those are significant things but kinda…don’t explain how different I feel?
I realized it’s less need for external validation. I kept myself skinny in large part because I liked how being a skinny girl is cheat codes for people being nice to you, and I couldn’t handle people being mean/judgy; I believed all insults (I was also a fat teenager).
Now I care so much less. I have more self-worth. I don’t *love* being insulted, but I have a vastly more solid idea of who I am, my value, etc – I feel stable. So being fat just doesn’t seem like a big deal anymore.
That said, insecurity and a desire to prove myself motivated me to do SO MUCH. Now I don’t feel insecure or desirous of proving myself, so I’m generally way less motivated in every way. Like I don’t have a ton of motivation without fear. That’s kinda weird and I’m not sure what to make of it.
July 8th
Man, why is time so slippery? I’ve only had a couple days of editing left on this book for ages now. I really only need a few hours to myself. I can’t seem to find it, though.
I’m basically never alone. NEVER. I use my minimal free time at the gym, but even then, I pop out for a 30 minute workout and then pop back because I am Needed.
I know I used to have more time. I just can’t conceive HOW.
It kinda feels like I can’t bear to tell my kids “no, sorry, I’m going to work on my books” because that feels selfish and not like actual work. It used to be actual work. Now it feels like I’m just depriving my babies. Who aren’t babies! They’re turning 10 and 14 in three months.
They’re so interesting and pleasant and easy to be around, honestly. They also want ALL OF MY TIME. All of it.
~
My dudes, it’s been 104F (40C) a couple days in a row here. Sometimes we get that in August, but it’s weird in July. I totally lose all desire to exist in weather that hot.
Normally around here it’ll get 97/98 during the day, and then quickly cool into the 70s at night, but lately it’s been over 80 near unto midnight. When the heck do I walk my French bulldog? When do I walk MYSELF?
I don’t even wanna go to the gym/store/whatever because going between Car and Building is such a drag.
Luckily our AC is doing its job. Everything *else* in the house is breaking and we’re looking at a summer of five-figure House Fixing Stuff, but the AC is okay…at the moment. Fingers and toes crossed for us please. It’s nasty!
The AQI hasn’t been good either, but only like 70-90 (we’ve gone off the charts in past fire seasons). Bits of California are burning, but we aren’t getting it all at the moment.
What a summer, man!
July 12th
I love when someone on a local subreddit asks for the best tamales and all the answers are like, GPS locations and times. It’s like trying to find a spy hookup. You know, that one old lady who’s on the corner of x and y, over by z? on thursdays at 7:30pm and saturdays at 5pm but only when there’s a full moon. Get a whole bag of tamales. Tell her Jimbo sent you.
July 14th
on this summer break, my 9yo is giddy with the RAW POWER of having mommy at his disposal all the time. it’s like we’re connected by an umbilical cord again. we vibrate on the same wavelength a lot. it’s exhausting because i’m a complete introvert who can’t recharge at all unless i’m alone, and he never tires out. he’s so sweet though. so cuddly and silly and happy to Do Things With Me.
i’ve enlisted him to help me exercise. i’ve been weight training at the gym but rejecting cardio (as always). i told him i wanted to do a jogging lap around our local park each day, and oh boy, he will not forget to make me do that.
even though i haven’t had a lot of time to do Thinky Stuff (nor the energy!) i have been reading tons of comic books, which is also Very Nice. i love retro comics. and i am catching up on all episodes of Bluey, which is very cute and unexpectedly emotional. the weather finally dropped under highs of 100F so we’ve had a bit of rain.
this ends in a couple weeks and i’ll be able to write/edit regularly again. i am looking forward to it. but also i’m gonna miss my little buddy when he’s back at school tbh.
August 3rd
I have a Very Lovely Friend visiting from England (she took this picture). I’ve been showing her all my usual haunts around Nevada, since everything Nevada is EXTREMELY weird compared to England. It’s also weird compared to most of America, but especially England.
I haven’t been getting out much these past few years, though. I honestly haven’t been to places like Virginia City and Truckee in so long, it’s like another lifetime. What’s weirdest is how much I like it here?? I love Nevada???
I love our wild horses, our haunted everything, our gnarly trees, our many cemeteries, our trashy signage, our charmingly dull museums. Dry hot weather is nice! The desert is beautiful. Finding random patches of vivid green where the creeks run is downright magical. It’s a pleasure showing it off. I’m like Nevada’s proud mom.
Since I’ve also been muddying around in Death’s Hand again, I’m feeling very nostalgic. I swung by some places in Reno that appear in the book. It’s like visiting myself as a young adult.
August 4th
I was feeling pretty good about myself today. Then I was out walking, and some dude stopped his car to congratulate me on my pregnancy.
I have not been pregnant in a freakin decade. I am just fat and on my period so very bloated.
I’m actually a little bit leaner atm; I’ve been lifting and eating well. I’m on a slow downslide. Not really worrying about it. Just noticed my clothes are a tiny bit looser. But I have always gotten people asking me if I’m pregnant when I am not! Even when I was at my skinniest, I got that. When I was 19, I got that. It’s just how I store fat. I have a stomach. I am an apple. HE STOPPED A CAR TO SAY THIS TO ME. kms
August 6th
I finally watched The VVitch. To answer the goat’s question, yes. I would love some butter and a naked dance party with my friends in the forest.
August 9th
13yo: you remind me CONSTANTLY that I am a teenager
Me: bc I’m shocked that a mother of teenagers can be as cool as me. I’m so sigma. Sticking my gyatt out for the rizzler while he mews at me.
13yo: mother.
Me: OHIOOOOOOOOOO
~
Weird dream last night. It was a continuation of a recurring dream theme I have: there is another house under my house (or a house i’m thinking about buying). Somewhere in the home there is another stairwell, and if you go down that stairwell, there will be another house with more stairs leading down. The deeper you go, the worse it gets.
For whatever reason, all my extended family were trying to live with me in my current house. It was very full. So I said, “Hey, there’s actually another house under my house! If we clean it up, we’ll have room for everyone!”
So I headed down with a few sturdy guys. My husband had blocked off the stairs for our safety, but it was easy to open, and the first stairs were so much shorter than they should have been — like it wanted us down there.
It was exactly like I remembered. Just kind of a dim, grungy house that looked real dirty down there. Living room, kitchen, doors to bathroom and bedrooms. I started opening doors to show everyone it wasn’t a normal house. “See all the blood stains?” I asked. “See the windows that don’t go anywhere because we’re underground?”
The doors tried to close behind us, but I held mine open, and I told everyone to keep them held open.
“Don’t let it trap us!” I warned. “We’ve just gotta clean it up!”
Nobody listened of course, so we got stuck. More stairways leading down appeared. When we went into rooms, they got bigger and scarier. More blood stains. More rust. Dolls everywhere. The dolls were moving! They were growing hair out of their noses! The windows were bleeding!
The party I brought down to clean up the house started freaking, and I was getting REAL MAD about it.
“This isn’t hell! It’s just my basement!” I said.
All the hairy-nose dolls rolled their eyes back and started repeating me: “This isn’t hell. It’s just my basement.”
And then I woke up.
Weirdest part? It wasn’t a nightmare. I wasn’t actually scared at any point. I was just SUPER annoyed because I OWN THAT BASEMENT, dammit, and I can clean it up to share with family IF I WANT TO.
August 14th
I got to pet six dogs today. Three were puppies. IT WAS A GOOD DAY.
(I also pet my two dogs, of course. So eight total.)
Y’all I am having just such a nice harvest this year. My neighborhood grows all sorts of fruit on common lands; we already passed plum and cherry season, but now it’s grapes, raspberries, and blackberries. Apples and pears are still plumping up. Acorns will drop soon. Evening primrose seeds are coming.
Every time I go on a walk, I get to snack as I go along. It’s incredible. My arms are all scraped up from the blackberry bush and I ~don’t even care~
Combined with cooling temperatures, adorable dogs, and my children actually being amenable to taking long walks with me, I’m just in heaven.
August 15th
Thirty-six years old and I am shaving my chin area on most days. What is up with that? Who gave my body permission to grow the most pathetic semi-beard in existence?
I’m telling you, I have gotten another hair somewhere weird every year since I turned 30. I get like two hairs on my left boob. Not righty (Fieghan), just lefty (Ewan). I am a boob and chin shaver. I just don’t think it’s FAIR.
~
I took my electric scooter for its first real ride today. I am not good at balancing! It’s sort of funny how sometimes I step on, and I have no trouble staying upright, but I’ll also sometimes step on and wobble straight into the gutter.
Ducking under low-hanging branches is beyond my balancing ability (for now) so I usually just brake and step off until I pass the trees. But I didn’t realize my scooter has cruise control. At one point it activated.
So I tried to just step off to go under a tree…and the scooter kept going…and it pulled me ass over teakettle. I rolled quite a distance.
My palm is now bruised and my knee is skinned. I was wearing a helmet, but I didn’t land on my head. Maybe I should be wearing kneepads too???
I am 100% okay (wrist is a little hurty) and it’s actually kind of fun to fall down. Adrenaline is fun! It won’t stop me from continuing to ride. I think electric scooters are the perfect transportation around town, since I live in the middle of deep suburbia and everything is like two miles away to start. No need to get in a car. Just step on the thing and zoooooom (and make sure cruise control isn’t going when I step off)
