So I’m afraid I have no other way to say this without saying it here.

Here’s an open letter to my mother.

Dear Mom,

Jilly isn’t a bad dog, she’s a pent-up, hyper dog. And screaming at her and beating her crate is not how we’re going to make her a better dog. It’s going to make her a skittish dog. I love how Dad and Rocco are idolizing Jax like he popped out all mellow and perfect. He destroyed things too, but there was a gigantic difference between puppy Jax and current-puppy Jill. You were home ALL DAY EVERY DAY with puppy Jax until he was like, 5. Jill spends all her day in a crate.

She’s an active, chewy puppy. Yet we have no outlet for her to be active, OR get rid of this excessive chewy feeling. And she responds pretty well to gentle commands instead of shoving her around and smacking her snout. She still jumps, but if I spend a few minutes praising her to ‘sit’ when she’s jumping up for love, she gets it. So how about we buy her toys to chew, like a goddamed teething toddler? No, no chewing on blankets or pillows, YES, chew on all these toys. It’s like telling a two years old to sit still all day, the problem isn’t with the kid, it’s with whoever is demanding a ball of fuzzy energy to not move!

But it’s gotta be a ‘everyone helps’ deal too. We all have to throw a rope toy around the house after dinner, we all have to give her a ball and calmly tell her to ‘sit down’ when she’s jumping, but every time I say something I get dismissed, AS I USUALLY DO EVERY TIME I OPEN MY MOUTH.

I’m no dog trainer, but I can do some research, and scaring the dog half to death is not how we’re going to make her be a good dog, but, since I’m not some kind of world class construction worker who knows everything about everything that isn’t computers, both dad AND Rocco (and you…) won’t listen because apparently, doing research and testing things that aren’t ‘scream loud enough to scare every animal in a ten block radius while losing my temper’ is clearly something only computer geeks can do.

Love, the hermit.

I have never been so impressed with cleaning products in my life.

I feel like I should have taken a before and after shot.

Before: Grossest my bathroom has ever been. Black shit growing in the tub, gross. (I guess this is what happens when you aren’t around for two months to clean. Plus a drip.)

After: I didn’t need to scrub shit, the black gross shriveled up and died.

All hail Tilex!

(Though I’m still busting my ass to make everything purrrrdy in there because it was horribly gross.)

The Fox and the Bun

Official life status : married

So it’s roughly the three year anniversary of me and my husband from when we started dating! Woohoo!

When talking to a friend I realized that honestly, prior to this past two months, we’ve maybe seen each other 2-3 months over these three years. It just the realities of long distance things. And sure, I did think “alright, where is this going…” After we split from the third in our little love group, but I do truly love my husband big, dorky face, and went with it hoping things would work in our favor.

Clearly “our favor” is the name of a nice polish attorney.

I openly admit I cried at my wedding. My husband did too but he swears he didn’t. He is a horrible liar.

I lost my job two minutes after and that sucked. Then again, my husband, the worlds worst person with money YET STILL ISNT HOMELESS, if someone could figure that out, simply went “eh.” And insisted we’ll figure it out.

When he’s right he gets such a fucking ego boost.

“My favor” is the fact I got a damn good lead teacher gig from an old employer. I even negotiated my salary higher than what she was offering.

Since I got here in June life’s been a series of really boring adventures. It’s like we found the lv4 quest giver and he’s saying something about his sheep going missing and we gotta kill blah blah shank three mobs get reward.

But damn, these shitty adventures are some of the best I’ve ever had. I’m really putting these two months of “honeymoon” up there with my first otakon with my best friend in the world. (who I don’t see enough.)

We got married and came home to play XIV. Still in our wedding clothes. Don’t care, it was update day! The first thing we did was Tam-Tara hard mode, a dungeon about a tank that died and his creepy healer girlfriend who kept his head and was inviting you to her wedding so you could be his new body. THIS IS FATE TALKING. Or dorkiness. I can’t tell. Whatever, got married, play creepy in game marriage thing.

We went on really lame quests like “watch Meilin cook” or “can we make it to the movies for the last showing”. And it was great.

Now I gotta go home to go back to work and I’m a puddle of lukewarm misery. The job isn’t ideal, but it’s reallllly good money. Pay off all my husbands debt plus my student loans good. But I have to leave my crappy adventure mate behind. For a while, until paperwork is finished, but still.


I’m doing the most painful, heart wrenching thing ever.

IM LEAVING MY BUNNY HERE. I haven’t been separated from her for more than a weekend trip in all of my existence! THIS IS HORRIBLE.

I’m taking home Foxy though. My husbands bunny equivalent.

A curse of the creative minds.

Artists are strange beings.

Working with kids I get to see the most over the top zany adventures to tumble from minds unburdened by life. I like working with children because they are some of the few people to match my own wacky thoughts. A dragon has popped up in the playground. We must kill it with butterfly nets. Why? We said so.

I won’t be shy to admit that my dear Laurel, one of my favorite people to write about, came up from her workshop to comfort me after Robin Williams died. That’s what she does. I made her like this. She hasn’t been quiet or anything, I’ve been truly writing a lot since I got married, still, up she came into my half awake mind to take me away.

But that’s my artists curse. My characters are alive no matter what anyone says or does. I gave them life in writing and now they torment me. They have lives. Stories, yet untold!

It came out that Robin Williams had parkingsons, at least the early stages. From what I read its a debilitating disease that robs you of everything – your mind, your body, your memories. And that blows. That really fucking blows.

But, if I lost Laurel.. Saeran, Rahal, Merke…

If my beautiful red headed queenie suddenly went silent. And silent for good.

I would be in a horrible place. A dark, lonely place. I could have every person I consider a friend in one room and I would be alone because I couldn’t contort the entire event into a horrible bad story later.

The world will miss you, Robin Williams. However, you left characters on this world that won’t die, and so, we’ll think happy thoughts, and always remember how to do great impressions of hot dogs. And it sucks that you’re gone, but I almost can understand why.

And so, goodbye genie. You’re free.

I really hope he gets together with Steve Irwin in the afterlife and puts on a standup show that includes talking reptiles.

The end of times!

I met my new grandma-in-law today. She’s a very nice lady. She gave me cake! I like cake.

She gave me a hug and her ears whistled. She smelled like old people. She forgot my name a few times.

She also whipped out a Bible because ‘things are changing’ (God’s got a horrible editor it seems) and told me that the end of times were coming, but it was still nice I’m getting married to her grandson.

Religious people scare me.

It’s a chocolate cake!

Today, on America’s Birthday, I am not proud to be one.

Here I am, my first wedding vacation! I’m a ways away from my normal routine which is messing me up a bit so it took me an extra day to hear about the Hobby Lobby ruling and let’s be glad I’m miles away from the nearest one since, I’m now out of work with nothing to do but be a nasty, nasty bitch.


By the way, totally fucking real: Here’s the tweet.

So, here comes the defensive:

“IT’S NOT ALL BIRTH CONTROL, IT’S JUST PLAN B AND IUD’S” Yes. And? If me and my soon to be husband got pregnant right this second, on accident, perhaps I fucked up my pills or we were just that .1% that it happens to, we’d be in a bad spot. I make little money, he makes none, I live in my moms house. Granted, I have a support system out the ass so it wouldn’t be horrible but what about the women who don’t? The ones who are doing the right thing and protecting themselves can also have accidents happen. If they believe it’s alright to do so, it’s none of anyone else s business to deny them that right.

Fun fact. This is my body and I can abuse it any way I see fit. I can fill it with cake and poutine (which, may happen, that shit is fucking delicious…) and become 400lbs. It’s unhealthy, but it’s also my body. I can smoke a rainbow of legal and less than legal substances that cause cancer and other horrible diseases, but again, it’s my body. If I believe that flushing out a parasitic egg from my body that isn’t human to me is alright, I should be able to. My employer should have no say in what I spend my worked merits for.

Also, IUDs are some of the best non-hormonal treatment out there. Bodies are complex. An IUD works for some women better than the pill does. Instead, we’ve got a bunch of white, old, catholic dudes going “EHHHH ITS ABORTION. NO PROTECTION FOR YOU. Deal, ya slut.”


“Well, if you don’t like it, don’t work at Hobby Lobby/a ‘closely held organization'”

One – Over 50% of all employers and 40% of employees are ‘closely held’.

Two – Why does it matter if my boss is catholic. I’m a devout pastafarian. He employs me to do a job, I do said job. I deserve either more money or proper coverage from my health care.

Three – With a staggering high unemployment rate…

For some of us, simply finding a place that’s hiring is painful. People need to eat, have a place to live, in today’s ‘murika, we can’t be picky. It’s work or starve and that’s a sad, pathetic, fact. Congratulations, Supreme Court of the US, you have officially held every woman hostage. Work to live AND be treated like a lesser person OR quit your job because you deserve treatment like everyone else, but die of exposure/starvation.

Finally, the president it’s setting. How long until a Jehovah’s employer denies the practice of blood transfusions because they don’t believe in it. How long until a extreme Muslim employer denies employment to women? How long until LBGT members are denied employment because it’s offending someone?

How long until the FSM jumps out of the internet and choke holds everyone for being so fucking stupid?

We are a country of hundreds of unique people. Everyone has feelings, beliefs, things they hold true. We should be respectful of everyone’s personal choices. Legislation should be passed that gives everyone safe and legal options to live their lives as they see fit. No person, no corporation, no being should infringe on my right to these things. We all believe in different things. My god is a sentient plate of pasta. I am free to believe in him as you, dear reader (and or fuckwit), are free to believe in a God, Shiva, Buddha, a funky fish that eats other fish, a science-fiction writer, or nothing. Simply do not impose your feelings on me like a respectful human being.


In short, I am not proud of my country today. We should be in uproar. My body, my choice. Not my employers. Offer me 100% care, or take a long walk off a short pier, hopefully into some lava.