not alone

Called Dave, his room has changed. Still no ultrasound. His test results continue to puzzle the specialists, often an unwanted combination of words, but his electrolytes are better. His cats have been fed and watered and he has additional phone numbers if he needs them. My relief is most great.

Jeff has been super helpful and kind the last few days. We actually left the house yesterday, picked up some treats, were the only people (almost 100 percent except for some staffers) wearing masks indoors.

Wordle in three, haven’t done Lumosity yet, 22847 words.

James Hong wore googly eyes on his bow tie at the Oscars. You’d have to see the movie ‘EEAAO’ to understand why that’s even funnier than it is on the surface.

Paul is still in Seattle, he’ll be back eventually.


Back in 1996, Paul, John, Bounce, Duke, the kids and I all lived on Dee Avenue in Toronto. For five whole weeks, before our lives got upended again and Paul’s transfer to Vancouver came through. Our bedroom had 11 separate walls as I recollect. That was also the house where Paul and I self diagnosed with ADD and where we were living when Keith ran into a car and hurt his ankle and he was so traumatized by the untreated mentally ill man in the ER that we left AMA. Eventually John followed us to Vancouver, where pOp helped him get a job at John’s Jukes.

I couldn’t for the life of me remember the name of the street.

So after looking at Toronto maps for a while I finally remembered “Knob Hill Farms” which was walking distance from there. They closed in 2001 but I got the locations and was able to backtrack the address.

Hope that asteroid misses us today.

Anniversary of Marx’s death date today.


another day of grey

Wordle in 4, Lumosity is indicating that my brain has fallen out of my ass, 22841 words.

mOm recommended Wong & Winchester and Jeff and I are liking it. We’re working our way through season three of Sinner (Matt Bomer is the villain) and it’s the usual freaky psychological stuff, but intensely interesting. Season 2 Zone Blanche rewatch yields continuing gems. Finished Last of Us season one; a really fine entertainment. Finding out that the giraffe (a local Canadian zoo provided it) was real instead of CGI was a trip… that was Bella Ramsey actually putting something in its gob, lol.

Peggy showed up with cake and soda bread, she got the last of the biscotti in exchange. Absolutely no one complaining. Love all around.

I am still feeling very small and useless.



Still exhausted from all the sturm und drang of the last couple of days, but things calmed down.

I have not yet met Sam and Oreo, the new cats at Junction, but it’s something I look forward to.

Ke Huy Kuan winning best supporting actor for his role in the candidly amazing “Everything Everywhere All At Once” is so well deserved I can’t say how much. He was a) a sophisticated actor (an actor playing an actor) b) a universe hopping battle ninja c) a henpecked husband and d) a fully realized human being. He was the spindle that movie whirled around. Crying and saying to his mother ‘Mom I won an Oscar’…. just amazing – hugging Harrison Ford, with whom he starred in his first important film, so many years ago…. I didn’t watch ‘The Big Show’ but I got a feed full of it this morning. Happy feelings.

I have lots of other thoughts about what’s going on in my world, but sometimes the inside voice is the one to use.


bad friend

As much as I might think I have the mental and physical energy to hop on a plane and go to Toronto to assist Dave with cat care, I don’t. Yesterday was full of panic attacks and self-excoriation for being a bad friend. I should not have volunteered. And now I get to phone someone who’s sick, lonely and literally isolated and tell him that. Thank all the anarchist saints Catherine volunteered.

It’s not about me, but I can’t help. Just the idea of going to an airport fills me with LITERALLY existential dread. I mean, I probably just got over a silent case of COVID (I lost my most of my sense of smell and as things stand now I have to hold things up to my nose to tell what they smell like) which the Canadian government has just admitted was all part of a mass-disabling event, and now I want to get it again? Just thinking about taking my medications, or having to transit everywhere, and then having to come home; I’m on the ground wailing.

I wish I had any good news to share.



Got a couple of turns around the park in yesterday.

Suzanne came, cleaned and departed. We had the back door wide open most of the time she was here and it really felt wonderful, a ginyouwine spring clean. Should have seen Suzanne’s face when I told her that Daxus and I had had an adult conversation about something of import to both of us. (And that I ran away with my tail between my legs, yes I did, but it’s all good.)

Still feel empty and irritable but nothing like earlier this week. Jeff has news on the client front that I’ll let him share when he’s ready.

We’re rewatching Zone Blanche and my very parasocial love affair with the adjutant known as “Nounours” (Teddy Bear, which he is) is renewed.

abovenoted is a tyrannosaurus on a skateboard

Apparently Keith and Paul are off to the States this weekend.

Laundry and fridge duty today I fear.

“Margaret’s Hope” tea from Great Wall Tea tastes like frikkin soap.

(later) I just got off the phone from North York General Hospital and Dave’s been admitted. He’s in room 334 on 3 North. He’s in isolation but I’m hoping to contact him later today as he was asleep just now.

I swore I’d never get on an airplane again. I may break my vow.


Please spare a kindly thought

My friend Dave has also had bad news and he is so ill that his specialist told him to go to the ER. I cannot imagine his state of mind at the moment but Dave if you’re reading this I’ll be thinking of you until the next time I hear from you.

We could have done a shop this morning but I’m in no mood to leave the house. I may go later this morning but right now I have no urge.

Roasted veg scrambled eggs this morning…. damn it was tasty! Had to stop drinking coffee though because I use cream, so it’s tea for me for the foreseeable since cream in tea tastes godawful.




today’s reason to cry

I’m fighting a viral infection according to my bloodwork – let’s just say it came as a complete surprise since no fever, no cough, no real symptoms except gut raunch and I can’t really relate that to illness thanks to how weird my gut has always been – and my liver and kidneys are not working properly. The kidneys part I’m not worried about since I was dehydrated for literally the first time in weeks, but the liver enzymes are worrying.

I’m taking steps but I’m just messed up right now. One of my few consolations is food. I just want to die. (This is what is known as an exaggeration for effect. I want a cessation of effort regarding nourishing food, which is different.)

Keith was here and cooked and fed us beef and bean chili and it continues to be nom. I made biscotti. They turned out excellent, but texturally quite different to what I’m used to since I added the butter to the flour and not the eggs. I now have to get them out of my house before I hurt myself eating half a batch. That should not be a problem. Keith has warned me not to just leave them where Paul can find them; like me he has a hard time not motoring through them.

sawbones today

10:30 appointment. Probably won’t get in until noon. Normally I go across the street and get something from Brown’s Social House but today Keith’s cooking us lunch, so I have to make sure everything he might need to cook is ready to go. Then I’ll show up and EAT. Sounds ideal.

Wordle in three this morning. I should think so, my ancestors would hit me if I didn’t get ‘horse’ in a hurry. gosh did I share the solution? Good thing fewer than ten people read this blog erryday.

Coffee next and some reheated Chinese food. Nom.

Apparently I’m picking up Alex on Friday so Paul and Keith can go to the States to visit Hank and Janice. Good thing I know what to do now! Takes a village, etc.

Yesterday apart from cleaning off the kitchen counter and loading the dishwasher I did nothing. Oh, I practiced. I feel empty and rattling and completely full of leftover wasp nests. I got my February blahs but good. And yet my mood isn’t BAD.  It’s just kinda … blank.



10 billion dollars and no water

Apparently they’re going to build a high speed rail line between LA and Las Vegas, 218 miles. Las Vegas’ ‘dead pool’ number is 895 feet. That means that if Lake Mead’s reservoir drops below 895 feet, there’s no water for the city.

The city is not projected to see those numbers for at least the next three to four years. Plenty of time to manifest some water from, er, somewhere, when they open the rail line in 2025 LOL.

Mega-projects are dead, when will people see it.

The ‘Cop City’ in Atlanta, which is going to tear down an urban forest to put up a training facility for the descendants of patterrollers, had the construction site set on fire yesterday. The cops have already killed a protester there. This is a generational conflict – in the sense that it will go for a generation.

I cleaned the kitchen counters, ran the dishwasher and ordered dim sum for delivery yesterday. NOM. Jeff was less impressed; we did after all grow up with Tak Sun. Mickey Dee’s for brekky this morning.  Otherwise I did not to a damned thing and I slept like a dead thing for half the day. Feel fine now, though. And I spoke to various family members yesterday and we’re all doing okay, which is lovely news all by itself.

Pedro Pascal said that Sarah Michelle Gellar was a complete sweetheart to him during their filming together in Buffy the Vampire Slayer and the two of them getting on social media and being nice to each other was the tonic I needed this morning. Parasocial relationships, who can live without them LOLOL.

another day simply packed with jam

Yesterday I got up and did my things including laying out my meds for the next week, and ran the dishwasher and made chow mein noodles and tangy marinated tofu with veg. Then Paul called for a walk and possibly lunch. I said I’d be by in an hour during which we watched a rather tiresome Farscape (Jeff was okay with it but so much pointless yelling tho’ Rygel puking was pretty funny) and then I went and got Paul, during which time I chatted with Keith as well which was good because then I knew we had a time limit. Home by two for a family phone call.

We went straight to the peepee hut at Fraser Foreshore because Paul thought to tell me about it before he had to march into the bushes and play “Aren’t I cute Mr. LOO’OUT WIF MY WEENIE HANGING OUT” and I thought you know what, it’s here, I shall go too. Because the day was so lowering and mizabrub, what with rain that was doing the classic ‘Vancouver dry rain’ thing that it does, it was nice to find a place to park nearby the johns for once, and the misery continued what with the fire over in Richmond ‘cross Sto:lo throwing the densest blackest most apocalyptic looking smoke across the entire southern horizon and THEN a bank of cloud rolled across the landscape and ENTIRELY hid the smoke, as if we hadn’t in our dozens of park-goers and dog walkers SEEN THE SMOKE and it was like God holding me in the palm of my own head’s hand and saying, “SEE, YOU CAN’T TRUST ANYTHING.” With a wave of the weather some catastrophe was removed from my sensorium. Something close obscures something far, but the something far still is. A leedle epistemology promulgated by my forever strange assessments of the world.

Word came later that it was a fire in a pile of recycled building materials and the smoke was way worse than the fire, which was put out in an hour.

Nice, brisk walk. The wind picked up. A convention of little leashed dogs in jackets with a purple clad toddler much shorter than Ryker wading into the middle of them (everyone behaved). The wind picked up some more. The blown mist turned into gentle rain that was colder than a well-diggers butt in February. The rain got worse. We stopped to search for the smoke, and found it. All we could see was a tiny bit of it through a tunnel of thinner fog. Never smelled it, I never saw the cloud cross the river, although you could see the grey discolouration of it through the smear of clouds and fog on the River Road side. Paul and I were doing the fogey sprint for the last hundred meters as the rain got steadily worse, and got ourselves into the car puffing and blowing like lolruses.


I was wearing my Oodie. Little did I know that when you get an Oodie wet, it grips onto certain kinds of plastic really hard, so there I am, trying like fury to turn the fucking steering wheel to get out of the parking lot and NOTHING is happening. It was easy to diagnose this king hell driving hazard so I paused, shifted my suddenly EXTRA CLINGY clothing into a less ‘this will be hard to explain to the accident investigator’ style, and we finally got out of there.

Then I took Paul back to our place and we had the noodles I made earlier. Then he asked me to do his feet which was no problem, he was like a month overdue. I clipped his nails, buffed everything down so he can’t snag his socks, and rubbed balm on his foot cracks, also helped him get his socks back on. I really enjoyed having him today and we didn’t have a cross word between us (either way). We’re allowed to be snarky but not mean if you know what I mean.

Apart from the two assholes who tried to t-bone us on the way home, and the weather getting steadily worse (wet snow by the time we arrived) everything was peachy, and as I watched Paul go up the stairs and into the house I thought he looked jauntier than he had in ages. I did ask him if he’s depressed though and he says maybe a few degrees more than his baseline, but managing. Know iggzackly what you mean, my dude, I really do.

Then on the way home I trekkethed to ‘The Pie Hole’ (‘Forkin’ Good’, as the packaging notes) and got 2 smores cookies, and two hand pies, one blueberry for Jeff and one butter pecan for me. For reasons I do not understand, I had an allergic reaction to my pie (which was damned tasty) and my thung thwole up and got a great big hive right in the middle of it.  No other hives I can feel or see, and no other symptoms. Very tiresome, Jeff’s going to finish it, we’ve got nothing but tragedy in this house, can’t you tell? I’m laughing. I made off with one of the smores and it was fine. Is it possible I’m getting a nut allergy, because I’m already careful around peanuts, cautious around cashews, and eschewing hazelnuts altogether, including, sadly, Nutella, until I feel comfortable enough to re-test.

Then we watched the last Lidia Poët, which was wonderful, and then one of the Stargate TV movies (Ark of Truth) and then I went to bed early. That was my day.


wotta burst

22648 words, Wordle in four when it SHOULDA BEEN TWO. Two top fives in Lumosity.

Yesterday I put off getting out the door for errands too long. Jeff got embroiled in a work issue and was no longer in a position to offer me a ride. I did a cognition check, decided that if I was literally going to be driving two blocks and back again I COULD DO THIS THING so I went to Burnaby Square and I got my damned meds and I got my blood work did (as always the vampire women at Lifelabs gave THE PERFECT STICK) and EKG (COLD AND RIPITTY SKIN COMING OFF) and I peed in the container (prob’ly not enough, I was dehydrated all day yesterday) and confirmed it would all be read before next Tuesday’s doc appointment.

I got back in the car and decided that Jeff, after bringing treats home various times of late which perked me some considerable, needed to have something treat-like so I went to M&M Meats and bought two chookity pop pies, one lazzyggna, one breaded shrimpity thing, and a box of mini creamitypuffs. We had cream puffs and shrimps for supper, WE RAGRET NUFFINK, especially when we contemplate the amusement this will prompt in our elders….. On the way out of the M&M’s at The Royal Square Mall (not the Royal City Centre, which is also in New Westminster 2 km away) IT HAILED.

I thought it was graupel, but it was round, and it beaned me, and stung my little head. I thought, OW and put the food in the back seat and then ran over to Sally’s and grabbed more emory boards since Jeff is continually frowning over how snaggy my fingernails are any time I hand him something. After pricing meshuggas (I am sorry, but I didn’t mean to reenact the entire drugstore scene from ‘What’s Up Doc’ (“How much is it without the …”) while out for a shopping jaunt – they tried to charge me $43.95 for an emory board and I’m, like, haaannnh???) I paid the 6 bucks total for my self-care order (I’m just trying to meet MINIMALLY APPROVED GIRLY STANDARDS THOU MISERABLE GODS OF GENDER CONFORMITY BOOOO) I went outside, received the continued icy blessing of hail-strikes on my bean, and departed for home; the hail stopped before I even left the parking lot of the mall.

Stopped watching Station Eleven. Any time an episode ends with two small girl children appearing to voluntarily blow themselves up killing a family member at the behest of a post-apocalyptic prophet I am going to fucking check out because I am already well aware of the extent to which #notallmen will destroy things to assert control over them and would prefer not to have the point made in the story with shrapnel-laced chunks of what should have been the carriers of our future.

Jessica Wildfire’s most recent post is one of the hardest and most necessary things I’ve read lately. You don’t have to read it and I’m not linking to it because it’s very very bleak, but you can search for it under her name and ‘Behavioural Sink’ on substack. It confirms in me that Keith laboriously helping to build community in his own way IS the way out. We must all community build or die. We find what we can do for that community and we build it. It also explains why reddit is full of straight women who’ve stopped dating….