Saccharine dystopia.

HEY EVERYBODY! Thanks for your continued interest in my life.

It’s nice still being relevant. I have also updated my home decor. After six years of sleeping under the stars, I’ve retired my ratty galaxy print duvet cover, of which its rattiness was accelerated not by rats but cats. When I bought it, I’d just moved to Montréal with only a sleeping bag as a bedding option and needed something quickly. The galaxy print stood out among all the beige and floral options, so it made its way into my new home. While I hauled my kitschy bedding back to the west coast in 2019, I thankfully didn’t need to get rid of any mustache or bacon accouterments that were the craze in the 2010s.

Anyway, what thrilling duvet cover have I chosen to sleep under for the next 5-10 years?

Continue reading “Saccharine dystopia.”

Ironically, “aural” is an anagram of Laura.

Does anybody else react with sarcasm in place of cursing when something goes wrong?

One of the wires of the whisk attachment for my hand mixer came loose, spraying flecks of butter-saturated brown sugar everywhere. “Oh, fun! A mess!” I exclaimed. It was already past ten at night. I’d misjudged how long that evening’s baking project was going to take, and now I had a mess to clean up too.

Along with this after-dark banana bread production, I’d also powered on my food processor for some hummus. My landlords went out of town for a few days, so I used their absence as an opportunity to raise a ruckus!

“If a tree falls in a forest and only I am around, does it make a sound?”

Continue reading “Ironically, “aural” is an anagram of Laura.”

Diagnostic smooshing.

QOD: How is it that the jalapeño cheddar has 10 more calories than the bacon cheddar?

If you don’t have me as a contact on WhatsApp, you’re missing out on some intellectually stimulating discussions. One friend responded, “I bet the ‘bacon’ is just the addition of liquid smoke, which is 0 calories.” Then, they quickly added, “It seems like they’d be the same, though. Weird.”

Another friend harnessed the power of the web and looked up the ingredients. “The jalapeño one has modified tapioca starch, while the bacon one has modified food starch.”

Gator (yes, I am naming names even though that’s not her name) took the judgmental route:

“Please tell me you did not eat the jalapeño cheddar or bacon cheddar.🤢

I did not. I was conveniently in the line-up at a convenience store, waiting to pay for my energy drinks. Even though I should be cutting back on caffeine, PEOPLE ARE DRAINING. I am glad the mask mandate is back: I was getting tired of seeing people’s garbage mouths. Even two weeks post jab #2, I was still masking up whenever I’d pop into a business. I continued to wear a mask because, as a retail employee, I appreciated customers who kept wearing theirs. I’m a benevolent misanthropist.

FUCK YOU, I’M POLITE!

But, the most notable thing that happened since my last post was getting screened for cancer.

Continue reading “Diagnostic smooshing.”

Anger prisoner.

Tammy is good at noticing things in trees.

On Monday, she took me to Cuthbert Holmes Park. There, I saw my first great horned owl in the wild. My favorite thing about great horned owls is how they look perpetually offended: this one was no exception. Tammy also pointed out the camouflaged hummingbird nests in the trees along the trails. Upon dropping me off at my place, she remarked that my landlords had an apple tree–which I knew about–and a plum tree, which I hadn’t noticed. And a pear tree that had somehow eluded me. 

To be fair, even if she hadn’t pointed out the pear tree, I would’ve noticed it today as I collected two pears off the ground when I went outside to re-pot one of my houseplants. While lining the container with potting soil, I realized that doing so directly underneath said pear tree probably wasn’t wise. Isaac Newton had beat me to the notion of gravity more than 300 years ago. Had a pear bonked me on the head, the discovery would have been one of my landlords to make: me unconscious under their pear tree.

The landlords’ daughter is in town. She was the one who introduced me to her parents via email, but it’s her partner who I know as I worked with him in Montréal. For this reason, we haven’t hung out, but that didn’t stop her from sharing on WhatsApp what her parents had to say about me. They inadvertently complimented my cycling prowess when they mentioned to her how fast I go up the hill on our street on my e-bike.

I do not have an e-bike.

Not to worry, the rest of this post isn’t going to be about how amazing I am.

Continue reading “Anger prisoner.”