Life Goals

I live in a strange town with really unique demographics, – which, is honestly really pretty fine for me, because I’m a weird kid and so oddities have a tendency to suit me fairly well.

I live in a Snowbird town, so most of the people who live here, are here for maybe about six months of the year, and most of them are solidly over the age of 60.

This is awesome for me, because it means that I’m meeting all of these incredible people who keep reminding me that like. – Everyone who ever says to a university student “These are the best years of your life” – like. They’re wrong.

About a million years ago, I wrote to my Wondertwin that I finally thought I understood what that meant. “These are the best years of your life” and she wrote back to me that no. It only stops being the best times of your life when you let it.

–  Now, to be sure, there are extenuating circumstances. This past year for me has…absolutely, most indefinitely not been the best times of my life. At all, by any definition. It sucked for many reasons, most stemming from troubles coping with brain chemistry.

And that happens. And that’s fine.

Because life isn’t always going to be wonderful. Sometimes it’s going to royally suck.

Even if you’re doing everything in your power to make your life better, sometimes it’s still going to suck.

The thing is…

I guess it’s really about hope?

One of my best friends in this town, she’s seventy-four, and last week, we made a plan to go to the cinema and sneak into a film. Because she hadn’t done it for decades, and I’ve never done it in my life.

I think on some level…that’s it, really. It’s just a constant process, reminding myself that I don’t need to be defined by nebulous limits somehow put in place by ****society at large*** or whatever.

I think… maybe it’s to do with the idea that…whoever you are, as a person, you can continue to be, no matter how old you are.

It’s not that desires and abilities don’t change – they do, and they *should*, but perhaps it’s just… living with people who embody the fact that you don’t ever have to outgrow anything.

It’s good to have that in my life. I deeply appreciate it.


Courage and Spontenaity

Today I was kidnapped by Punk Mentor and his cousin. We went to the Grand Canyon for New Years.

Because we fucking wanted to.

I have spent a great deal of time and energy on training myself to just fucking go when I want to.

I don’t need to have a ****reason****

– or more… it’s just that wanting to … that *is* a reason. That’s *enough* of a reason.


I remember when I was… probably around the age of 12? and I had this sort of… call-and-response thing with one of my best friends.

I would ask her “Why?”

and she would say “Because we want to!”

and I would say “Why?”

and she would say “Because we can!”


I have a friend – in my head, her name is Nike, the Greek goddess of Victory. I think maybe I was 20? and she was my FUCKING DO IT  friend. She had an amazing answering machine message. It was Isaiah Mustafa – the Old Spice Guy – and he said something like “The Intelligent slash gorgeous slash sophisticated lady you have called cannot answer the phone at the moment as she is currently on the moon surviving on the air in her lungs given to her in a passionate kiss!”

I remember driving all the way out to the coast to finish a certification that I was taking, and I parked my car, and I was just… so afraid. And was just…frozen, in my seat. It was this thing that I knew I had to do, and I didn’t know if I had the courage to do it.

I knew I could always call her, and she wouldn’t even ask questions. I could just say “I need to do this thing…”

and she would say “FUCK YEAH. GO DO THE THING.”

I didn’t even have to actually reach her. I just had to make the call, and hear this fantastically . ridiculous voice mail message, and I would remember… that I had people. That there were people out there who would stand by me and tell me to JUST FUCKING DO THE THING, because they knew that I could.

(I called her. Reached her voice message. Listened to the whole thing, then got out of my car and knocked on the fucking door and got my goddamned certification.)


Nike still does this for me. My Wondertwin does. My Driftpartner, and especially my friend Tawanda. More people than I can honestly name. The people who remind me to fucking take what I want, because no one else is going to fucking do it for me.

There’s something different about it though, when you live a million miles away.

Because phone calls work, but they can’t knock on your door and say “Hey. Do you want to drive to Oklahoma with me next week?”

Punk Mentor – he moves around even more than I do, (which, to be fair, has been much easier lately, now that I’m reasonably settled in one place for a bit), and I think that transience is part of it. We’re not going to be in the same place together for long. We’re not going to be making plans for hanging out in the summer. It’s entirely possible that one or both of us won’t be living here anymore.

It makes things more immediate. It’s impossible to put something off until next week if the people involved won’t *be there*.

So instead we do it now.

We say “I want to go here.”

and then “I’m not doing anything on Thursday?”

…and then we go.

Reflections and Nostalgia

I wasn’t really intending to start this post in this way, but I logged in (after being gone from this blog for a very long time) and I realized…

The last fucking thing that I posted was George Micheal.

I guess that it’s just that things change? – or maybe. It’s not so much that *things* change as that the perspective with which we view things changes.

Or I’m just being incredibly soppy and cliched at the moment. (But with a title like ‘Reflections and Nostalgia, I feel like everyone knows what they’re getting into, at the very least.)

This year has been… Well. Certainly not always the most enjoyable, but I think, also, a very necessary step for me to move forward with my life.

This time last year, I was in New Zealand. I was working at Steampunk Art Gallery, and I was doing every single thing I’ve ever wanted to do in my life, and I don’t know if I have ever been so desperately unhappy.

And this year… The holidays have come, (and I will forever and always HATE every single ANYTHING that has even the SLIGHTEST BIT OF A HINT of being about Christmas*) but… it feels like victory.

The people I have in my life now aren’t asking for things I can’t give.

I am doing better at not asking for more than people can give.

Part of being in a support network – I always imagine it as a spiderweb. It’s strongest when woven together, but every strand of it still has to be able to support itself.

I think…that’s where I’m at right now.

Balance has never particularly been a strength of mine, but I also don’t really think it was a *goal* of mine, either.

I think that it is now, and I think that – as with many things, “balance” is a nebulous, ever-changing goal. People aren’t static, what we want, who we are – it all changes, and so “balance” will change with that.

I think maybe that’s kind of beautiful.

I think that maybe I like the kinds of things – maybe “goals” is the wrong word.

Perhaps it would qualify more aptly under the heading of ‘More Guidelines Than Actual Rules’.

Which is good, because I have significant issues with authority and have never really been particularly good at following rules anyway.


All this is really to say:

Hi! I know it’s been a while, but I’m back, and I am so fucking happy to be here.

Happy fucking new year.

Fuck 2016.


To Allay Worry





Alright, so a confession about me:


I’m the type who likes to avoid things and procrastinate. (I feel like there are many who like to avoid things and procrastinate. I have a feeling I am probably in quite good company here, but that’s not really the point.)

I love this blog. I’ve said that many times.

This blog has been… amazingly helpful to me in tough times, and also something that I’ve been using as proof to myself that I *am*, actually capable of committing to something.

I’ve kept it going for over two years now, so I feel like that’s honestly really something.

There have been pauses and breaks, and some of that has been due to location, or lack of resources.

Some of it though, has also been because – I’m the type, who, when I get behind in things, I like to run away.

Because sometimes, it seems easier to run from a mess than to fix it. (Not that I think this blog has ever been a mess, really.)


It is, however, one of those things that becomes harder to get back to once I get behind.


Sometimes, when I lose the time or energy to keep up with posting, I feel this…looming thing.

It starts to feel bigger and scarier, and there’s this guilt attached to it, like, anything I can do I should have already done.

But I really do love this blog.

So, even when I get a bit trampled by things, I want to get back to it.

And, eventually, I’ll manage to scrounge up the courage to bite the bullet and get back on the horse – as it were.


I’m on the cusp of another adventure.

(I rather hope that… I hope that I sort of always feel that way.

Adventure is trying, and tiring, and magical and wonderful and usually at least a little bit painful. Sometimes, the best thing to do is to find a safe space out of the wind to rest for a while before settling back into the path ahead. But…if you choose to make a home forever in your place of refuge, you’ll never find out what’s over the next hill.)

Right now, I am… tired and terrified and utterly ecstatic. I feel a bit like I’ve gotten my fingers caught in the door, but also like a few bruises kept those same doors open.


I’ve never been afraid to admit that I make mistakes, but I also try to learn from them.


This past month, I feel like I have learned a lot.

I’m not always the best student, so sometimes my lessons are a bit unorthodox. I learn though, and these past weeks, I have learned a lot.


Perhaps one of the most important things that I have figured out – one of those things that is such a small detail; a tiny shift of angle, that, despite it’s inherent smallness, manages to somehow shift everything – is that… I don’t have to have the same type of life as everyone else.


This is something that I’ve probably said in many ways before, and, honestly, I will probably say in many ways again.

Because I try very hard to remember that my life is not anyone else’s, and what works for other people may not work for me, and that this is perfectly okay.


A thought that has often plagued me – was, in fact, a huge part of why I started this blog – was this reason, this idea of ‘commitment’.


I travel. I take short-term positions. I am not often in one place long enough to truly *settle*, as it were.

I have finally reached a place where… I think I’m starting to be okay with that.


I’ve finally realized that… having restless feet isn’t something that needs to be fought.

It’s okay if that’s what I want to do with my life.


If the things that make me happy are taking temp positions, that’s okay. If I never truly figure out how to put roots down – that is okay.


Like any life, there are benefits and disadvantages.

But that’s just it, really.

It’s like any life.


I guess that it doesn’t really matter how long I’ve been at it: I keep discovering new ways in which I am the only one living *my* life.

It doesn’t  matter what most people do.

All that matters is what works for me. What I can do that keeps me happy.


Even if it’s something I’ve never seen before, or something that I’ve never quite put together.

There are so many ways in which I’ve built my life around what I thought I was supposed to do.

I think I’ll keep discovering more of these, no matter how long I’ve been working at it.

I also think that’s okay.

Life is learning.

(If it wasn’t, it wouldn’t hardly be any fun…)


My life doesn’t need to make sense to anyone but me.

(And, honestly, I get confused by weird fucking shit, so, if it doesn’t make sense to me all the time, that’s okay. (Especially  because most of the time I get confused about how incredibly fucking amazing my life is, and I feel like it’s really okay if I get confused by how singularly magical my life is.))


I guess this is me.


Getting back on the horse, and letting you all know that despite my occasional need to hide from things, this is one thing I will come back to.



So. Thanks for hanging in here with me. You’re all fucking wonderful.

Cue: A Change of Scene

I will be leaving Texas behind (farewell vivarium! Farewell my magnificent Shadow!) and I will be heading to New Zealand.

I’ve got my sights set on Nelson, but I think there will be a bit of following the wind on this one.

(Nelson just so happens to be a town known for it’s art scene, with lots of opportunities for glassblowing, as well as a flight school, and the jewellery company that created pretty much all the stuff for the Lord of the Rings films. So I mean. Pretty much everything I want to do in life, all handily packaged in one town. )

It’s not quite tourist season, so I might wind up with something seasonal.

(We’ll see how it goes when I actually *get* to New Zealand.)


For now, I’m packing up, cleaning out.

I’m really excited to be back on the road.

It was nice to have a bit of a break, but I’ve still got restless feet and so much of the world to see.

Hey Friends!

I hope you all enjoyed your week!


Mine was pretty freaking fantastic.

I’ve started 12 stories, finished 10 of them, completed a pencil sketch and a photoshop project. There will also be a pretty sweet Ides Mix going up in a few days, so I hope y’all check that out too.

I went on long walks, I saw movies that I probably should have seen months ago, and probably didn’t get into near enough trouble.

I caught up with old friends and made connections with new ones, and only wanted to burn shit down a few times.


It was a good thing to do, for me. Take a break, re-focus, remember perspective.


Honestly, at this point, After not blogging for a week, I kind of miss it.

It’s a chronicle, I guess, but also a reminder.


Because I love my life, and all fo the amazing, bizarre, beautiful things that end up coming my way.


(And I fucking talk a lot anyway, so I might as well write it down.)


I’ve been a lot of things, but one thing description that I’m still incredibly, incandescantly happy with is being a foxy lady finding shiny things.


Thank you all for hanging out with me on my marvellous misadventures.

Frustration and Limitation

I want to be able to fix my bike.

I mean, I’m not entirely certain what’s wrong with it, but there’s an entire *internet* out there, with friendly videos and owners manuals and fucking step-by-step walk-through’s on forums run by folks who have done this a million times for their own things.

However, due to my current situation where I am distinctly lacking all tools, I can’t.

I can’t do *anything*.

Except for wait two weeks for the nearest place to have an opening to even *look* at my bike.

I never go *anywhere* without my mulit-tool. And the one time I did, I fucking paid for it, and now I’m stuck.

I’m not used to being in a situation where I lack the *tools* to get the job done.

(Alright. That’s a lie. I am *often* lacking the proper tool for the job. But I almost always have something close enough to work. Or something that I can *make* work, despite how much it’s not actually really supposed to be used that way.

Note: Mutli-tool.)

I’m often lacking, perhaps, the specific knowledge for a project, but I’ve got a decent instinct (or maybe just an unreasonable amount of experience) with taking things apart, and I’ve gotten really quite good at hunting down that knowledge, if I need something more than just what I have learned by dismantling things over the years.

But now I find myself in a situation where all the knowledge in the world doesn’t help, because I can’t *do* anything with that knowledge.


…I miss my tools.


My place of work serves food, and everyone who works there gets one food-item comped per shift.

My place of work *technically* has salads, but never, ever has more than two.

The salad is the most common thing for me to eat, because, hey! Nutrient-dense food I don’t have to pay for! Awesome!

Unfortunately, there is a guy at work right now, who *also* usually eats the salad.

(and if given the chance, he’ll eat them *both*)

[insert death glare here].


I honestly don’t think that a *customer* has managed to get a salad in the past month that I’ve been working there.

However, there is a bit of a cold-war that has started.

Creative placement, or sometimes even just whoever gets there earliest buy it, writes their name all over it and leaves it in the fridge in the back.

Things have genuinely gotten hidden.

It’s fucking *hilarious*.

Like. Sometimes, I’ll be working and he’ll come in, and he’ll just give me this *look*, and ask for a fucking fork, and I’m just like.

‘If you don’t leave me one. I will *destroy* you.’


It’s beautiful.

Up Helly Aa Or Bust

I like to make ridiculous plans.


Sometimes, those plans involve calling up all of my friends and booking a fucking cabin in the Shetlands for a week to go see a goddamn *viking fire festival*.

Because I make good decisions?

But also because I do the things I want to do.


I’m not going to sit here and put off all the shit that I want to *do* in my life.  My bucket list is far too long for that. I have places to go and things to try.

This is something I’ve been talking about for years.

So I’m going to make it happen.


I’ve booked a cabin, and I’m going to fill it with people I love, and I’m going drag them all along with me. It’s going to be cold, and dark and absolutely ridiculous, and I will never, ever regret not doing it.