People are real?

Now that I’ve been reintegrated into the real world, I could ditch social media again. I was glad to have my Insta back over the two months, where I had face-to-face interactions with only one person.

Yann’s been a trooper, but sometimes my questions are a little too much for him. A few weeks ago, I asked select friends via Insta, “If you could shoot silk out of your butt like a spider, would you tell anybody?” I relished the diversity of the responses that followed.

A few days ago, I tested a hypothesis on my followers.

Continue reading “People are real?”

I lost my tracking device.

A week ago, my phone bricked. It was kind of my fault: its decline began in 2018 when I bailed off my bike with it in the back of my jersey pocket. The glass separated from the phone around the edges, and over time, pocket fluff began to accumulate under the glass. This created a permanent diffusion filter for my front-facing camera, giving the illusion that I was always in a sand storm. The fluff was likely also interfering with the ambient light sensor, causing my screen to flicker.

Life is pain, I know.

Nowadays, smartphones have up to 14 different sensors. With a replacement phone on the way, I’ve been looking at phone case options. Yann suggested the Otterb*x (I’m protecting you from ads), which suggests that he thinks I subject my phones to drops of 100 feet. (Oh, please. My previous phone died from firmware failure!)

I went with a biodegradable hippy-dippy case made from ground walnuts and eggshells, bound together by dried tree sap. When my next phone does die, I can plant the case and it’ll turn into a mighty oak. I admit the company eco-guilted me into going with them, instead of something cooler-looking.

I’m hoping this purchase will offset the environmental impact of discarding an $800 phone after under three years of use. 

Continue reading “I lost my tracking device.”

Growth takes time unless you’re my nails.

We are all limited as to what kind of goals we can set for ourselves right now. My fitness routine is restricted to what I can do with a yoga mat, a set of 8-pound weights, and the hangboard we mounted above our bedroom door frame last month. It seems iffy to be leaving our neck of the woods to do some moderate-distance cycling. Even if we go for 4-hour walks, I’m finding that I’ve been spending most of my time on the couch, perfecting that ass groove.

A gif of Homer Simpson shifting around on the couch.

If only I had the inspiration to tackle a new art project.

The most inspiring person I’ve seen in the past week is my across-the-street neighbour who comes outside on his front porch to toot his gold vuvuzela every day at 7pm. Obviously, I can’t hear his masterful vuvzelling, but I can appreciate how he surveys his surroundings when he comes out, “I hope nobody sees me do this,” then gets in position.

I know the point is to thank all the health care workers and that many people are creating their own noise of thanks. To me, it looks like it’s just this one guy tooting away.

Continue reading “Growth takes time unless you’re my nails.”