Why should I change?! You’re the one who sucks.
New year, same me.
Category: outdoor adventures
To err is subhuman.
Childhood Halloween costumes:
- Sad clown. You can’t tell by this photo, but there was a teardrop painted on my face.
- Pebbles Flintstone.
- Blue-faced witch because the face paint packaging was labelled green when it was in fact blue.
- Princess.
- Devil.
- Cheerleader.
Maggie was more surprised than she should have been when I revealed that I’d once been a cheerleader. We’d spotted zombie cheerleaders walking down the driveway of a mansion to collect their fun-sized treats when I made this revelation. I meant I’d been a cheerleader for Halloween.
You can be anything for Halloween, except for someone else’s culture.
Sadly, my costume this year was unrecognizable to all but one person. No wonder nobody could guess what I was making based on the photo in the previous blog post.
On October 31st 2021, I went as:
Continue reading “To err is subhuman.”Moist dreams.
Ever since switching on the heating in my place, I still found myself asking the question, “Is it just me, or is it freezing in here?”
Introducing Taylor:
This gadget is a digital thermometer/hygrometer. So far, the answer has been, “It’s just you.”
I purchased it not for the daily reminder that I am reptilian but because I wondered whether I was having trouble falling asleep with how dry the air had gotten since switching on the heat. It doesn’t help that the baseboard heater in my bedroom is right behind my headboard. Imagine waking up repeatedly feeling like this:
Involuntary-Twitch Muscles.
This morning I sucked up–with my handheld vacuum–an impressively large spider. Or so I thought. It wasn’t a spider, but its moult. This means a fresher and much larger version is on the roam, hopefully gobbling up all the silverfish as I’ve been too lazy to deal with the corpses that collect in the light fixtures.
Although I’m more okay with sharing space with a spider than I am with a mouse, it was so large that a piece of my heart traversed my chest and stopped in my right deltoid.
See:
Inspiring while perspiring.
Tuesday, rather than enjoying a sweltering session grasping at plastic holds at the bouldering gym as planned, I found myself lying on my back under the kitchen sink living out my plumber fantasy. Remember when I successfully removed the p-trap to unsuccessfully retrieve a pair of body jewelry that I had dropped down the drain? If not, there’s a blog post about that.
This time my landlady requested that I grope for some pipes through a hole in the wall: a poorly placed access hole that did not line up with this purported handle. Also, being trapped under the p-trap meant I couldn’t peer inside the hole.
Do you see the valve? No. The answer is no. But, when your landlady, who is renting out a suite to you for much less than the market rate, asks you to stick your hand in a hole in the wall, you do it.
Continue reading “Inspiring while perspiring.”
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