Facial view of a calico cat. One eye is encircled with a black patch, the other has black and orange. Her nose and chin are white.

This lovely lady is still a little stressed, but we're now a three cat household. Meet Asha.

I'm here for it!

I don't think I could have handled the additional horror of that pun.

Yup... it's a thing. Both of my parents. "I don't want to be a bother, and you're so anxious." NOW you care about how I might feel? Why do you think I have GAD and MDD to begin with?

I'm so sorry. He was the best boy.

I hate hate hate playing corporate games. That doesn't mean I won't play. It means I play like Ender so I don't have to do it again for a long time.

Work lately has been like being on a chessboard with people that have only ever played checkers.

Anyway, I made a really good soup last night.

In fact, he relied so much on his belief that mediocre mayo dudes were smarter than people who learned science that he followed medical advice from them instead of doctors and used snake oil instead of evidence-based treatment with a high success rate.

I used to think the mediocre Pantone 47 guy's humor strip was funny because it made fun of corporate culture. Found out he'd set up housekeeping in the Basket of Deplorables. What used to be edgy became whining about his work and dating life being tied to mediocrity instead of skin and gender.

It's another horrifying rabbit, isn't it?

Mr. Creosote?

When a colleague shows up more limes than thirty people can take home, you take them home and make curd. When you make curd you suddenly have egg whites, and instead of making gingerbread for NYE, you're making pavlovas.

I just threw up a little in my mouth.

Ready to dive right into my terrifying feminine nature.

Seriously. When did the low bar of "not the person that's infinitely worse," become an invitation for a limbo contest?

I guess deciding that I'd rather listen to Vogon poetry was right.

Sometimes a song I've listened to over and over hits me with the Epiphany Stick. Today, it was "Suffer" by VNV smacking me with the knowledge that you can feel loved by your parent(s), but you might have never felt safe. And suddenly so much makes sense, especially when I look back at teenage me.

I love that shop!

Reach out to me at clothing.reanimator@gmail.com, and we'll work out a price that's reasonable for you and fair for me, and extend the life of your clothes, especially those favorite things that need a little love to put them back in your wardrobe.

Your dropped hems. Your split or stressed seams. Your corsets with popped grommets. Your broken zippers in need of replacement. Your missing buttons and unraveled buttonholes. Anything that can be done by hand, because frankly some of these things are better when they're hand-stitched.

She's totally worth the cost of an emergency vet. I'm grateful we had the resources for it, but this little incident has stretched them. It's time for a small side gig featuring the age-old profession of women needing to supplement their income... SAN DIEGO, BRING ME YOUR MENDING!

Fluids, two x-rays, an endoscopy, and an obscene amount of money later, she came home stoned out of her gourd with an empty digestive tract and rampaged around the house until she was fed ("she'll need a quiet place to recover. And today I'm thankful that she's back to her ridiculous self.

This adorable and unrepentant criminal is a terrifyingly smart problem-solver AND impulse-control impaired. She dug a rubber band from a place we thought was secure and ate half of it right at bedtime a couple nights ago and politely refused to respond to the emetic at the emergency vet.

Meanwhile you're still holding my original account hostage by refusing to originate a reset email.

My weirdly specific superpower- I did not have the dress with me when I picked my nail color. Some people have perfect pitch, I have oddly accurate color recall.

Yes. Yes. Yes. That was the first thing that came to mind when I heard about Frog Guy.

In case anyone is wondering, this cat is ridiculous and I love her.

But what if I remind everyone that Jeremiah Johnson was part of his body of work?

I wish I could say the trash took itself out. But 30+ years ago, this person was my almost everything. My prom date. My coffee buddy. My rescue from a controlling home. My Trek pal. My Catacombs in a fluorescent hoodie partner. My rock during heartbreak. Lost to Xian nationalism. This one hurts.