Holy shit, DO IT, San Diego (for reference, this is Navajo Rd, adjacent to Patrick Henry HS)

Anniversary weekend requires no filter.

Nice

Guys, we’re here to party.

So, how many other geriatric millennials have asserted control over the television from their tween in order to get teary-eyed over Sneakers during dinner? All of them?

I would like to demand that my cat do her effing job and kill kill kill ANY flying insect that attacks my face while I sleep. Bare minimum, OREO.

Every Girl Scout knows this.

Wow, that is a labor of love. I’m so impressed. I have a similar tale with rehabbing my inadequately espaliered apple tree that came with the house. We didn’t know if it would ever produce fruit but, after years of careful maintenance, this year looks like this:

Mister Magnificent (new nickname) doesn’t feel good.

We go halfsies.

Thank god that’s over

Time is of the essence, apparently

I need to crack and peel an egg.

Egg Time is when I, a middle aged cis femme with adhd, must consume my body weight in protein, which I abhor. My dog was born for this.

Do I HAVE to go into the Costco?

Happy Summer from Portland OR!

No, dog, I can’t give you the morning sustenance you require, I must, instead, laugh at chronic migraine posts by strangers on the internet.

I was like, “Hey! What if I make rosemary potatoes with our lunch?” Kid says, “Totally! I love them! What if I slice them into discs?” And now it’s 3 hours later and we’re still unfed.

Evidence of the miracle:

I have met a few in person and they are always shocking - like, as if there was a baby bear, sprawled on the floor of the bodega, paws on the counter at the bank, or waiting patiently at the Barbur World Foods (exhibit A).

It’s the only football team I have any feelings for for two reasons: 1. the poe thing and 2. The fact that their previous quarterback looked like the evil baby from the simpsons.

I *may* have made myself the smoothie that will lead to my untimely end.

I’m putting this here just in case I die en route to my aunt’s house so there’s a record that I did my assigned job.

Odie’s a big fan of public servants and specifically the USGS and the USFS and so he’s feeling some big feelings these days.

90% of femme beauty performance is handled by youth and hormones so when you no longer have those to lean on, you have to crank up the femme details in order to pass which is how I’m justifying my millennial goth princess mani/pedi.

I am using my empty daylight savings morning for a little, light, exposure therapy with the dog in the neighborhood village. I will make him a confident city dog yet.

Here’s the dog:

Thanks, @rebeccasolnit.bsky.social rebeccasolnit.net/book/infinit...

When you go to the yarn store, and you go to pay for a skein of indigo sport weight yarn, and the lady at the counter says the words, “Do you want that wound?”, trust me, you say yes.