He likes painting and is an anthropologist. He picked up swing dancing as a hobby and hands radishes to humans as a display of empathy due to a cultural misunderstanding.

I am playing a Gorn ensign in the lower decks setting. Currently fighting a dragon in space. After having tricked Peter Pan into getting locked in the brig. Holodeck issues.

I like seeing your Star Trek drawings on Fridays because I am currently playing the Star Trek RPG every Friday so it’s just nice timing and gets me all jazzed to play.

Sunset in the Boundary Waters. The deep blue sky turns pink and orange over a purple lake. The forested shoreline is silhouetted, dividing the lake and sky.

Red pictographs of a person, a moose, and a raccoon(?) on the face of a rocky outcrop.

Dense fog transforms a backwoods dirt road into a magical journey.

A twisted stump protrudes from a rocky point, overlooking a lake lined by pines.

The power they hold is stolen from future generations to feed the insatiable emptiness in the cavities where their souls used to be.

Quetico Provincial Park visitor center entrance. A rocky wall with a wooden sign reading Quetico frames the entrance to a visitor center. A birch canoe hangs above the sign. QPP is on the Canadian side of the Boundary Waters wilderness area, which was just opened to a very destructive type of mining that will ruin the pristine area for both sides of the border.

I don’t have words. I have many cherished memories of the boundary waters on both sides of the border. I feel sick.

I often feel sick after reading any news these days.

All the things I care about are being destroyed. All the people I care about are being harmed. This is not a hyperbolic statement. It is difficult to just exist right now because I am perpetually grieving my entire reality. I must rewrite my hope every day to adjust the expectations downward.

Incidentally, I also liked rainforest cafe at MOA for the same reasons and also whined a lot at my dad about not being able to afford the food to be able to watch the singing animals there as well. My poor dad.

I also liked the singing birds in the tiki hut but I couldn’t go to the show because you had to buy food to enter so I watched part of it from a distance and whined a lot at my dad about it.

One side of a flyer for Disneyland CA (1993) advertising Aladdin’s Oasis and explaining parking and passes.

The other side of a Disneyland CA flyer (1993) showing a schedule of programs and shows.

I found the stuff from the one and only time I went to a Disney park in 1993. We didn’t do much because we only had half a day and didn’t have money for anything but tickets. I liked the Haunted Mansion, the 20,000 leagues under the sea ride, and pirates of the Caribbean. My friend vomited on me.

I’m going through cards and letters from my first birthday. I’m old so it was before the internet. It’s sad that we don’t send letters much anymore. Little slices of peoples lives in their own handwriting.

Explaining. Is not. Making. Excuses.

How many times do I have to fantasize about smacking people in the face over this.

I am explaining something you clearly misunderstood. But you continue to misunderstand and tell me I’m making excuses.

I’m autistic as hell and would rather be INVISIBLE than have clout or attention sooo… mind reading into a mirror much.

Viral photo from some years back of a man nonchalantly mowing his yard with a tornado on the horizon .

How it feels doing literally any task right now.

I remember when I could post any old thought on the internet and not fear things. Those were times. Relying on government support to exist is so great. Such an experience of so much freedom. I’m so free right now it hurts. All this freedom that I can’t escape. Why would I want to though. So free.

MOON.

A street covered in six inches of snow with car tracks down the middle creating large ridges. Trees line the neighborhood street. Their branches are white with sticky snow.

It snowed.

March is over and the lizard people didn’t reveal themselves as was promised by a random lady that wandered into my mom’s business. I’m slightly disappointed.

A hand sized granite stone painted in acrylic with a scene of Yosemite National Park. The scene is a view down a valley with peaks on either side. Trees scatter the valley between bright granite sheer cliff faces. The sky is streaked blues. Because paint pens don’t blend.

Just finished painting a rock from California. #art #painting #landscape #paintpens

Beware of injustice being used as a tool to convince you that you can make exceptions to your own values “for the greater good”.

Dunno what’s going on with the national park accounts on TikTok but I’m here for it. I suspect anonymous roleplay chaos. If any of the accounts are legit I’m doubly amused.

My favorite foods are Mexican but I both cannot digest greater than jalapeño spices and have a food intolerance to onion so I identify so hard. I have spent entire days in the bathroom and missed work because I just couldn’t resist some homemade salsa.

Looking at upcoming movies. I am VERY EXCITED about Forgotten Island. And hopeful optimism for The End of Oak Street but I was let down by 65 so I’m holding back on that one. Still salty about it.

“There may be no world at all if we don't start making news instead of listening to it.”

-Admiral Nelson, Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea, 1961

Running on fumes for a week and lost ability to communicate. Back soonventually. Not absorbing current events very well.

Chronic illness: sometimes you have to choose between cleaning a rug or making food and you choose poorly because you clean a couple more things than expected (and run an errand) and now, not only can you not make food, you can’t move an arm.

I am discovering the wonders of adding a little bit of plain Greek yogurt to almost everything. Oatmeal? Fluffier. Açaí bowls? Creamier. Dog treats? More protein. Tuna salad. Also, I can dip chips in it. This stuff is magic.

I am so tired of big nasty people playing money games that end or ruin lives of all the people they’ve decided don’t deserve life or respect.

Photo of the underside of an anvil storm near Rothsay that produced a funnel. The clouds are dark gray silhouetted bright and silvery from behind, with many bumps along the underside of the anvil top (the bumps are called mammatus).

A blurry lightning bolt brightening up nearby clouds in purples and yellows.

The edge of a massive supercell hiding a large wedge tornado behind a wall of rain as it moves toward Wadena

A black and white photo of clouds forming rippling layers along the wedge shaped front of a storm.

The movie tapped my soul. My first tornado hopped over my house after ripping up the county fair. Afterward I gave weather reports to my mom by intercom from my playground. I started taking photos of the sky and never stopped. Here’s a few.

It’s a little early to be watching the Twister movies since storm season is still a ways away but I always watch it at this time to remember that 9 years ago today, a bunch of storm chasers lined up their GPS tags to spell Bill Paxton’s initials in a field in Oklahoma because he passed away.