out of control // pumpkin cheesecake soy candle // sketchbook // organic lettuce

Timothy has been in California for too many days. I miss him.

My window is left open at night, the air conditioner put to rest. My toes are cold. It’s wonderful.

I do not like teenagers. I always make my best effort not to generalize, because it is unfair, but it can be …difficult. My driving class is, obviously, populated by teenagers. I want to shake them and yell at them and tell them that when I was their age, my mother was dead. Is it appropriate to play the dead mother card in this situation? Probably not. Mostly I wish they could just turn their phones off, and possibly sit still and stop sighing dramatically for more than five minutes. I don’t want to share the road with these people.

I am participating in a Color Run on Saturday. I am not very prepared. I have no time to become better prepared. I’m ok.

Shauna and I went a little silly with Halloween decorations for the apartment. We’re mostly excited to have space to decorate. 14 Pierce was cramped and tiny. That’s why I never invited you over, if you were wondering.

The three of us (+Shauna’s boyfriend) played Nintendo, told ghost stories, and got rather drunk on Thursday night. It seems that Hiroshi Yamauchi died that day. We had no idea. We just had a suddenly strong communal urge to play Mario Party, after not having played it for years.

I have experienced an increase in cat-calling/street harassment around Dover. How about we stop that immediately? Hollering out your car window at a lady on the sidewalk in the dead of night is not in particularly good form, gentlemen. If you would like talk to me, feel free to step out of your vehicle. We can have a chat, and I can kick you in the gut, because these words you are yelling are not flattery. They are rude. You are rude. Please stay out of my personal space. Thanks. *

* By the way, the “nice guy” argument will not win you any prizes. Not in my house. I have known plenty of nice guys who, when called out on misogynist behavior and comments, became raging …not nice guys.

This week I would like to possibly, if I have a spare moment, work on a painting of the tortoise. He’s a rather good stand-in muse, and he photographs beautifully.

Have I mentioned that my twenty-ninth birthday is in twelve days?

This post does not follow my usual weekly wishes format, but it seems more natural to me. Some of the things I needed done were done, others still linger. I’m linking up with The Nectar Collective, just the same.

I hope you are well.


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