So, I had a wicked scooter accident last Wednesday.

I already shared some of the aftermath on Facebook and Bluesky — you know, the blood, the bruises, the slow-sip soup life (though let’s be honest, I’ve always been an obsessive soup sipper even at the best of times). But I realized I never actually told the whole story. And honestly, this one begs to be told.

Waiting Room Chronicles: The Jaw, Dr Longtime, and the Charlotte County Karen

Today was a whole damn journey, and I lived it with my face morphine-seasoned and my soul vibrating on the neurospicy struggle bus headed straight for Not Today Satan Drive.

PC Level Up!

 Okay, so I do almost everything on my mobile devices—art, planning, notes, writing, you name it. But when it came time to use those same apps on my desktop, it was like hitting a brick wall. Some of them don’t even exist on desktop. Others want me to pay again for the same app I already own. (Rude.) And I recently switched up from Windows 10 to Windows 11 sso some of my curmudgeonly old apps aren't even compatible anymore. (Really effing rude)

The Fallen (and the Silence That Followed)

 I wonder sometimes—is it a thing? That busted people gravitate toward other busted people?

Not busted like broken beyond repair. Busted like... scraped-up knees under patchwork jeans. Busted like hearts duct-taped together with gallows humor and thrift store empathy. Busted like old radios that still hum, static and all, if you tune just right.

I saw this image recently, one of those “scroll past unless it punches you in the chest” kinds:

Zero F*cks, Full Power: Notes from the Perimenopausal Trenches

There’s a particular flavor of entirely bizarre that hits during perimenopause. It's like standing in the middle of a whirlwind of emotions—rage, grief, hilarity, horniness (and utter lack thereof), existential dread, and a craving for chocolate-covered salty everything—yet suddenly, from the eye of the storm, a strange serenity rises:

I was never a Chrysanthemum..

 Today bloomed unexpectedly.

It started with a cup of tea—or at least the thought of one. I was feeling worn after making a call to the pharmacy to fix expired "forever" prescriptions that i somehow allowed to lapse, and a harrowing email to the government for a nonsensical confusing form I needed to fill out and return because "HELP!" and also a long, heavy session with Evo from Onsen.

Now Seasoned With Clay and Memories

I took this selfie on my way home from a little uptown trip — I needed to grab cat food and exchange a Dollarama webcam. (Not a fabulous cam, mind you, but for $5? The fact that it even works is kind of miraculous, honestly.)

The Lie That Didn’t Even Matter

I’ve been turning this over in my head for weeks now, and I still don’t fully understand it.

Why would someone — someone who once called you a close friend* — tell you a lie so pointless, so easily disproven, and with zero actual benefit?

Here’s what happened:

Condolences.

 "If someone is offended by your desire to heal, it usually means they have more to gain from your destruction. "

October 29, 2023 - That was the day I died. 

This song that I sing for you..

Summer was made for poetry... ($10 cost for the entire stack at my local book thrift - actual value: priceless)

A Brand New Day...

I meant to make this post yesterday, on the proper Solstice, but things happened and I kinda got waylaid.  Here's the total recall: