My Oracle cards of Story Generator and Character Generator from Nord Games.
I have a character for an isekai story, so I picked the cards for it.
And there it is! Rather well done.
Honest yet Tactless? Hmmm. I wonder if I subconsciously imprinting my personality, there. 
A couple of weeks ago I decided on a book to give my mom for her birthday. I had to order it from a bookstore just out of town.
It arrived a few days later, but there was a problem…
Our apartment mailboxes are loaded all at once – the whole case can be opened with a special key carried by Canada Post employees. The package just barely fit inside my mailbox. But when I opened my little door to get it out, the hinges got in the way, and it was completely stuck!
Desperate, I decided to leave a note to the postal worker, hoping that the next time she opens the case she could take the package back out and leave it on top of the mailboxes for me.
She was super helpful and nice about it, and kindly got it unstuck for me last Monday!
I left a couple of treats in my mailbox today to convey my gratitude but I was nervous about whether she’d get them.
Getting home from physiotherapy, I found this message written on a pamphlet:
Lovely interactions like this make me really happy 
I hope she has a wonderful week!!
Finally figured out a setup that works for me when it comes to writing in a thick spiral bound notebook, and have been enjoying filling out the pages of my vacation diary. Plus, my cozy little writing desk is kind of the best thing about being here again- as cold and blustery as it is.
We also integrated a few new players into our longterm TTRPG campaign lately- Tabitha and Arlo have been fantastic to have on board, and our respective first sessions were so fun! It’s been great to have them playing along, and I look forward to more of Brackwood shenanigans with them and their cast. :3
Played through Our Life again, since it’s like, the perfect game to play in the summer. Cozy way to spend an evening.
Glad that I had fed Theodore so much TTRPG text. Predictive text and cat memes very useful on mobile with very bad hemorrhage and reliance on my phone and non dominant hand.
A beautiful day with blue skies!
Was given a graduation gift of a ring recently. Apparently it’s 18k rose gold, with a 0.5 carat center stone and smaller accessory ones, in a vintage inspired “daisy cluster” ring that seemed to be popular in the 1970s-1980s. Which does explain the peculiar shape. Looks a bit goofy on my hand size, but it’s fun.
I finally broke down and bought an Apple Watch.
Yes, I’m an Apple fanboy, and I had resisted because I really haven’t worn a watch since phones became the do-everything device.
The things that convinced me:
I just answered a call from my Dad on it and IT’S THE FRIKKING FUTURE.
Today was almost pain free. The first since last Tuesday when I was ambushed by a particularly nasty kidney stone. Two ER visits, an overnight in the hospital, and finally surgery to evict the unwanted intruder has left me exhausted.
Horrors.
That is truly positive. You must be sagging with relief.
I realize I have not done a bird update for some time, leaving all of you wringing your hands wondering what is happening in Texas Hill Country avian news.
Well. Of particular note is that I saw a hummingbird get its ass kicked by a flower today. Hummer tries to sip from flower. Wind blows flower, which smacks hummer down! All the way down! TKO! Hummer loses! Flower wins! Amanda laughs! I certainly hope this was the same hummer that pooped in my eye.
Cough ain’t going away, but the nausea from eating that evil bay two days ago is. Also really really happy to hear Pinkunz is getting somewhat better.
Trigger warning for discussion of suicide, abuse, self harm, and difficulties with faith. Mood tone is a bit grimdark at the start, but ultimately resolves to a positive ending.
Also some discussion of gross injury stuff later in the post, but such is the life of a hemophiliac!
I was going through some of my things while unpacking and sifting through all of the stuff I’ve accumulated through undergrad, and found old diaries, some of which were from a very, very dark period of my life: abusive relationships, not at all accessing any form of health supports, extreme isolation as a component of said abuse, deep in self harm (through direct inflicted injury and reckless self endangerment) and just seeing how miserable I was.
How the only thin, tenuous reason I had for staying alive was out of the sheer spite and rage about not wanting to merely be a statistic to toss onto the pile of dead girls with tragic backstories who kill themselves before they ever get to live a real life, sad eyed and just a wispy anecdote to encourage people to donate to charities, or whatever. To be used even in death, rather than to have the reality of what I was going through to be acknowledged and to be validated in it was unfair, it was ugly and wrong for it to have happened, and that it was okay to be hurt and to grieve for what I’d lost.
How sharply the passive suicidal ideation radiated off of the pages, all steeped in painkillers and reckless behaviour- how angry I was with God, how I couldn’t believe in a loving God, how I couldn’t love God, because I couldn’t fathom being treated this way by a deity worth my religious devotion and fervour- how desperately I was trying to cling to the comfort I had historically found in religion, in the saints- in Archangel Michael, defender of the weak, protector of the innocent: strength, divine protection. How I was grappling with losing my faith, too, and how bitter I was over all of it, how painful it was to weep and not be able to feel like I could believe anymore, even if I desperately wanted to, because life was just too hard to bear living like this, and if this is what God was putting me through- then it was too much, and I was going to go to hell for killing myself, so what did it matter what He thought of me, anyway?
It was really, really overwhelming. I was hit with a wave of sadness, for this version of myself- for the girl I didn’t really recognize, and couldn’t quite relate to, who was in so, so much pain: and who ultimately, was the only person who tried over, and over, and over again, who pulled myself out of a dark, deep place by my fingernails and scrabbling desperation, who in spite of everything, lived, and in doing so, allowed for the grace of a life that I don’t want to desperately escape, anymore. There was so much tenderness, so much compassion for a version of myself who tried as hard as humanly possible- and who ultimately is the reason why I’m alive today.
I’d only really recently come to terms with the shocking revelation that for the first time in my 23 years, I don’t really want to die. I don’t automatically jump to thoughts of killing myself, to putting myself down like a dog to end my misery- death isn’t the easy escape, the comforting sense of control it once was. I actually, in spite of it all, love my life, now. I love the people in it, and am loved by them in turn. I’ve cultivated a life where it doesn’t feel like I’m constantly riding a razor’s edge of deciding whether or not I’m going to throw myself into traffic, or chuck back the bottles of NSAIDs, or sit in a dirty public bathroom weeping while grappling with the math on how long it would take for me to kill myself, versus how long it would take for anyone to notice, or care, and how every single time, the answer always haunted me in how alone, and lonely, I felt, when I realized how the time would play out.
It’s been disorientating, and scary, and difficult: and above all, it’s been worth it. I still struggle with a lot- but, I don’t want to die as acutely and keenly as I have grown up struggling with, ever since I was a very young child- the first time I attempted suicide, I was eleven- but the misery had set in years before then, with the grim cogs of fate churning.
Being able to meet this other version of myself: this trapped impression of a past me, to connect with how intense their grief was and how much pain was roiling off of the page- and to realize by contrast, how much sweeter things are now, and to feel such gratitude, even if it was accompanied by deepset sadness about how difficult things had been, and how deeply it cut to the quick, that- in spite of it all, I am alive. That it was worth it, to still live- it was really powerful, and deeply affirming, and it was a really big, bright revelation.
My weak shoulder (very serious injury in the past- with the ball and cup joint, the bones were forcibly ripped apart and the surrounding muscle structures shredded, leaving me with a free dangling set of long bones and with some nerve compression and half a hour of grinding bone on bone to reset) has been acting up, though- which is very, very painful and limits my range of mobility severely: I slept on the arm badly and jumbled it up, it seems.
On the bright side, even with the weak shoulder and hemorrhage being in the same arm, the wrist bleeding has stopped. It’s tender, but the prescription painkillers have dulled the pain to a tolerable level, and I can type if I’m careful and light handed about it. I’ve been fairly exhausted and groggy all day, and it was nice to curl up beneath the covers when I got too light headed to stand anymore.
The effect of growing over time is wild. The mind seems pretty solidified in some state, and it never seems to change, until you see records of your past self, and suddenly all the gradual differences are right there. It’s like being stuck on an ocean with no sense of travel, and suddenly there’s land.
Lots of free time later today, which means lots of time for gaming - which is well timed, as the new TALP games are now available 
-“I meant,” said Ipslore bitterly, “what is there in this world that truly makes
living worthwhile?” …
-Death thought about it.
“CATS” he said eventually. “CATS ARE NICE.”
(Terry Pratchett, Sourcery))
I managed to book in a large chunk of creative leave. Creative leave in that I work on creative projects, not like I’ve found some shenanigans to skive off work. Well, it is also that, but mostly the first bit.
The best bit is my wife is very supportive of these little retreats I’ve been doing. I’m extremely lucky to have this opportunity.
I was in a wedding this weekend and as part of it I got my hands henna’d. It looks really cool and has hardly faded at all yet!
It’s hard to comment on this with my experience in hand, but I can say that it’s bittersweet to hear that your world has changed so drastically for the better. That may not be comforting to hear but I mean it sincerely.
I finally got my grade back on my Advanced Biochemistry final exam (varied synthesis pathways, drugs, autosomal dominant genetic diseases, oncogenes, stem cells, the immune system, CART therapy, etc). It’s worth 40% of the grade, and I got an A!
I studied my ass off for that class, as chemistry has always been very difficult for me, especially with my dyscalculia. It feels extra good to have really earned that mark, and to reap the rewards of really pushing myself hard- especially because I had to drop and retake the prerequisite Biochemistry class in a previous year due to struggling so badly with the material.
I’d similarly done well on the first midterm, and Dan said something very sweet to me, about not having been worried because I wasn’t the kind of person to do 0% work, (this was when I had to deal with administrative issues and chase down an unmarked/autofailed exam) and that he was really happy for me and proud of me, because he knew how hard I had worked and struggled with the material (which is like, hard! He used to tutor for it!) and I can’t wait to tell him about how the final went, he’s gonna be so proud. :3
