Now I almost want to do a caftan exchange. Tiaras, blankets, caftans.

Nothing broken or dislocated. Multiple muscle strains and bursitis causing shooting pain along my upper spine. NSAIDS, muscle relaxants, 8 wks of PT. About the best news I could get. R came with me, that was really nice. Between her vet experience and her massage therapy training, she knows her shit. Doc was super awesome as well.

Laura, that sounds delightful.

Yay for no more intense intervention, I guess?

Boo that the job is a non-starter.

I have been wearing clothes that are not appropriate for being in public for 2 days and it is the best. Arthur is doing great and big brother wants to hold him frequently.

Yay for Arthur being home!

I've been on a t-shirt dress buying binge for months now, since dresses fit my post-surgical body so much better than they did before. Almost all of them have pockets, and several of them are dinosaur print. I probably look like a geeky kindergarten teacher in them, but they're fun and playful and the right level of dressed up for my default-casual self.

Timelies all!

Smonster, I am so overjoyed to hear your good relationship news. It’s like a light at the end of the tunnel, that hopefully is NOT an oncoming train. In pics you and Robby appear joyful which is a treat.

Also huzzah for Arthur’s tyranny at home, where he belongs, with the real milk bags (was recently in Toronto and all the talk was of milk bags which made me titter because I'm a 12 yo boy at heart)

Is bone ash-made tattoo ink vegan if it's made from a human who expressly wanted that to happen with their remains?

So, I think this is a lovely discussion topic because none of my vegan squicks would apply at all to subdermal tattoo ink made from someone who expressly wanted that. I would not be able to eat someone who wanted that after their death (shudder) but tattoo ink? absofuckinglutely. Sign me up! Especially with some time to meditate on the right art and location.

Some stagehands I worked with once used the cremains of one of their fallen to make absolutely gorgeous art inlaid with resin onto the exterior of a home-made canoe (made from reclaimed theatre flooring). It was a whole thing and it was PERFECT. Ok, maybe not as perfect as JZ in an art deco cookie jar at her writing desk, but still perfect for that person.

David, thank you for sharing so many tributes and tribulations the last few months. At times it’s been hard to read, but it’s also enlightening to share some of the experiences. No one could have provided a better transitional experience. What a grace that she was able to pass at home, surrounded by love and support which is really the best any of us can hope for at the end of life.

I’ve ugly sobbed uncontrollably more than once. Tried to ululate and turns out I can totally do that without even moving my tongue. It brought horrified looks from the cats, but sobbing on the living room floor with cats looking at me askance is just par for the course lately.

I am so glad that Oregon has a death with dignity act, because there’s no one to care for me at home. I mean, I have friends, but they have lives and families and I’m just…me. The cats refused to administer even the most basic emotional support when asked. So it’s reassuring to know that if I get a terminal diagnosis, I can just slip out of this life quietly without being a massive inconvenience.

It’s weird how death is so upsetting. And the feels just keep coming. Death is inevitable, it’s part of life, it happens to everyone…and yet it keeps hurting. So. Much. The loss, even of someone who isn’t even part of your daily life but just in orbit. It shouldn’t hurt. A person little more than pixels and the thoughts and representation of a person. It shouldn’t cause debilitating waves of grief or random sobbing in the middle of a work day. And yet.

eta: not to minimize JZ's life and reality to so many. But just for me, I think we only met F2F maybe twice? Someone I admired and followed online, but her passing has felt so raw and hurt more than actual family members who I spent significant amounts of time with for decades. I guess that's just another testament to how much she mattered and the kind of influence people can have without even knowing.

Now that we have 3 people coming to the house 3 times a week (PT, OT, and the care aide), I feel obligated to wear something a little nicer than gym shorts with a hole in the butt and a geeky t-shirt. T-shirt dresses are as nice as I'm willing to compromise.

Thanks, erin. I am amazed and grateful every day. We are learning to be cranky around each other, which is really hard for me but very important.

I’ve ugly sobbed uncontrollably more than once. Tried to ululate and turns out I can totally do that without even moving my tongue. It brought horrified looks from the cats, but sobbing on the living room floor with cats looking at me askance is just par for the course lately.

I can’t ululate. I also can’t blow a raspberry. I too have been ugly crying a lot. I have basically had tears at the ready for anything since Wednesday. I guess I am just going with it?

Jacqueline was(that hurts, too) very special, but maybe Hec has been good at bringing us there. Which I know for me has been two parts "How lovely," and one part "You bastard!"--not really, it's important to feel the feelings, but that doesn't make it, idk, restful or anything. We've had attendant(or at least, attendant-assistant) drama here that has left me feeling partially like a piece of plywood people lug and don't have room for, and partly like a parent whose kid left home. But N.'s sister/mother(Not literally in the Chinatown sense, just, like, the actual dynamic is befuddling) but M. will help us out for a bit.