Ah, 2025. This year marks my 25th year of blogging. On May 13, 2000, I published my first blog post. This May 13th, I shall celebrate this milestone by revealing my darkest, deepest secret.
Or maybe I’ll celebrate with cake.
I’ve assumed the form of Link again and been shot into the sky. 2025 goal number one: beat The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom.
I dreamt I lost Jordi in Costco. I texted him, telling him I was in front. As soon as I sent that message, my message was auto-corrected to “I’m going home.”
Then my panicked fingers couldn’t find the letters I needed to communicate where I was or what was happening. My keyboard didn’t make sense anymore. Only emojis were available, and I could not back out of that keyboard, all while I kept getting texts from Jordi demanding to know why I’d gone home.
I remember this much because I immediately explained my dream to Jordi when I woke up. Later that night, we shared a joint with my roomie outside and discussed the brain’s inability to incorporate actual text into dreams. I have recurring dreams about struggling to communicate in writing. Often, the text in my dreams resembles that of the fake text in Animal Crossing:
It’s merely a suggestion of text and it frustrates the hell out of me. However, the roomie is convinced he can form text in his dreams.
How about you?
Continue reading “Grab a snack because this is gonna be a long one.”I have a comically large pompom atop one of my toques. It’s so big that the pompom-to-toque ratio is nearly 1:1. People have difficulty resisting commenting on it. Small children point at my head. I might’ve even upset someone’s dog yesterday. Had the dog been off-leash, it’d have lunged at me for a taste of whatever critter they thought to be sitting on my head.
I spent the majority of my days off indoors. I finished French knotted the former Miss. Bouiver’s beehive and I am well on the way to completing my second embroidery project. I could finish it this week, except I found myself lying on the floor on Sunday night after smoking a bowl from my wee pipe. While high, I became more conscious of the strain I’d put on my back from hours of sitting on the couch, hunching over my embroidery project.
Continue reading “The pompom that brought a city to its knees.”