24

 I spent this past weekend celebrating Chino's birthday.

We met up with Ian and went to Sacred Needle after work on Friday. Chino got their tongue pierced and I got two more helix piercings, which are the woooorst. We survived. 

I spent the night and turned in early despite Chino booing me because my frail body demands it. I've started seeing a therapist again. It's been less than two months and she's already suggested I should talk to my doctor about a screening for chronic fatigue disorder. On Thanksgiving, I helped my aunt set up a bit, crashed on a couch for the entire meal, almost fell down a staircase, and then left. It's not ideal.  

Saturday was Chino's actual birthday. We spent the morning and afternoon playing Stardew Valley. We're to fall of the first year in this save. Ian alternated between working on his elaborate cake and playing Cattails: Wildwood Story. I think it's better than the original Cattails. 

I drove and picked up Hayley. We regrouped at the apartment and Chino opened gifts from us. 

We had dinner at Momo Mee, which is where the four of us went for Chino's birthday last year as well. Always really good. Ian ate so much he unbuttoned his pants the second we got back in the car. 

After, we chilled at the apartment and talked shit for a few hours and ate the birthday cake Ian had made, which had a long name in another language my brain zoned out on after the first syllable. Something strawberry and lovely.

I meant to take Hayley back before it starting snowing again, but lost track of it, so she got to experience the occasional fun slipping and sliding of my poor sedan in no way designed for winter life.

Happy birthday, Chino!  

Bang

I shot a gun for the first time. 

I've always been terrified of guns. The fear is guns is reasonable. Smart, even. Especially growing up and living in the USA. God bless America. 

But, like many fears, I think mine has been intensified by the fact that I knew absolutely nothing about them. 

For anyone who hasn't been subjected to my complaining, for years and years I've been having nightmares and stress dreams nightly that I remember when I wake up. There's been an uptick lately of ones about gun violence. So I thought maybe I should try to do something about it.

I looked up gun safety courses and found that there is a gun store and range five minutes from my house (God bless America) that was offering a beginner's workshop for women for thirty bucks. 

(Look, I've only been on testosterone for less than two months and all it's done so far is give me acne. I'll take what I can while I can. I did my time.)

We learned a bit about different guns and how they work, and focused on how to hold and shoot a pistol during a short classroom portion before we were released to practice shooting on the range.

I felt so nauseous aiming at the target with the first bullet loaded in the barrel. 

I thought I was going to panic after the first shot and leave. I told myself that was fine, but I had to shoot once, even though I really wanted to unload the gun and just walk out then.

And then I pulled the trigger and didn't instantly burst into flames with the end of the world. I stayed and shot the whole box of ammo I was given, thanked the instructors, and drove the five minutes home.

I kept the first shell casing. I'll find it somewhere in a few months and throw it out, probably. But it means something for now.

Knowing a bit more about guns and how to handle them will not change the fact that if someone wants to and has the means to shoot me or someone I love, they will. But if I'm ever in the same situation again I was a few years back trying to find an ingredient in my dad's kitchen while cooking for Thanksgiving and opening up an overhead cabinet and seeing one of his handguns next to his peanut butter, I think I'd feel confident enough to move it myself instead of just closing the door and asking someone else to deal with it.

(He most definitely put it there while sleepwalking. How that man is still alive, I could not tell you.)

 

 

Barn Cats

Ian, Chino, and I had our last weaving class. I'd missed a couple sessions and was anxiously sweating flying through the process trying to catch up. We need to finish up the ends and soak and dry them, which we'll do before our DND session on Saturday. 

I like how our pieces turned out. They're just long strips of testing things out, something of a table runner or uncomfortable scarf. My project from my first time taking the class has been sitting on top of my bookshelf since I finished it, and I imagine this one will probably join it.

We picked up dinner from Culver's. Ian watched Chino and I make a new multiplayer save in Stardew Valley and play through the first week or so. 

I forgot there's a character in the game named Robin, so I named my avatar Robin2 as a catchy, clever distinction. 

We had to abandon our last save because the game glitched and our cat vanished, and we weren't too keen on playing on without a little friend.

Speaking of cats, I saw a young one near the on ramp to the freeway on my drive home from Ian and Chino's apartment. I took the first exit off the freeway to double back and look for it for a while, but there was no sign of it by then. I hope it scampered off to somewhere warm and safe.

I called both Ian and Chino, and left a voicemail for Chino of me yelling about my personal cat crisis since I couldn't subject them to it in real time. Chino has gotten a lot of voice messages of me yelling. Ian doesn't check his voicemail, so you might as well scream into the void if you need to reach him.

It was a good night, cat woes aside.

The Blue Cube

Last month, Ian had to retire his electric blue 2011 Scion xB. The blue cube car was truly iconic and saw us through many ventures. 

He, Chino, and I are on a trip for the weekend and had our first little road trip in his new car. 

We're staying in this old regal house that was converted into an inn. It's gorgeous. And also full of ladybugs, but you win some and lose some.

Sky 2 Stay Winning

Five years ago, I did a term with AmeriCorps NCCC. I was on a team of eleven people, and we got sent on various service projects around the country.

Six of us spent last weekend together in Denver, where we met. Four had wanted to make it but weren't able to, and the other one tragically passed away earlier this year.

We've heard from other teams that many don't keep in contact or keep in minimal contact. It's a wild concept to me to go from living together in cramped and questionable quarters, working alongside each other on horrible tasks day in and day out, preparing and eating every meal together, and never being alone to never speaking again. Our team was formed in the height of the pandemic, so we were basically each other's entire social sphere for the time we were serving. 

I made some genuine friendships within my team, but even if I hadn't, I feel at the very least trauma bonded to every single person on my team from the things we endured. Alex and Kiana started dating during our term and have stayed together. Truly a glorious relationship origin story. 

I envy them a bit in that they have each other to talk to about what happened. I don't try to explain my time with NCCC to anyone. It's a pointless venture. There are no words that could paint the picture to someone who did not go through that.

Last weekend, we stayed in a house with one of the weirdest layouts I have ever seen. I was the first to arrive and took a nap the second I finished scouting out the place and had thought maybe I'd dreamt the convoluted design. I hadn't.

I dragged a twin mattress into the big closet of the room Alex and Kiana were staying in. Everyone made fun of me, but in the spirit of the program, it would have felt odd to have a room to myself. 

We had a really nice reunion and a blast catching up, reminiscing, and exploring Denver and Aurora.

One of the days, we walked around eight miles (I was suffering) between a loop of a state park and finding our way to our campus. We probably spent only around a month there in total between our initial quarantine and training, another quarantine after the holiday break, and days here and there using it as a landing pad between projects. It was really strange to be there in person again. Especially with it empty, as DOGE cut a lot of funding to AmeriCorps earlier in this Trump administration and the current government shutdown being the nail in the coffin for the organization currently.

To Sky 2, it is always a joy. I look forward to our ten year reunion. 

🍞

I bought a bread machine from Facebook Marketplace.

Ian and Chino both made fun of me about it in separate but near-identical conversations in typical fashion of a couple together for going on seven years. 

It looks like a tiny space shuttle. I picked it up after work from a very pleasant older gentleman. 

My uncle found me a used one when I was in high school. It was kind of busted and I'd have to fish out the metal spinner from where it'd detach and get lost in the loaf. I did not tell him this. 

I enjoy making bread more than I enjoy the resulting bread itself. But, I think it is fun.

My niece always enjoyed making slime. The times she convinced me to join her when she was younger I did begrudgingly. I can't stand the texture. She does it pretty often still and I refuse to touch it. 

I'm not entirely sure why because bread dough feels pretty similar when you start kneading it by hand and I like that.

If anyone wants subpar homemade bread (at best, mad science experiments at worst), hit me up.