I had a dream last night that I picked up a zine that was all printouts from “nerd” websites from 1988 - 1992 and a big chunk of it was from here and was just Buffistas gossiping about each other.

I mean, we did volunteer the corpus of our writing to linguistic study via erinaceous.

the news is full of jaw-dropping levels of corruption and malice in the federal government.

I have enjoyed Tulsi getting dragged backwards through the scrub brush of her own lies before Congress. Check this out transcript from Jim Himes (CT) and Tulsi's exchange:

*******
HIMES: Do you think it’s responsible for you, as head of the intelligence community, to retweet posts from individuals affiliated with Russian state media?
GABBARD: That retweet came from my personal account.
HIMES: Personal account? You’re the Director of National Intelligence, not an Instagram influencer. There’s no such thing as “personal” when you’re elevating Kremlin propaganda.
GABBARD: I have the right to share information—
HIMES: Information? You mean Russian disinformation. You sit in high-level intelligence briefings, then turn around and boost the same narratives Moscow is pushing. Should we just CC the Kremlin on your next meeting and cut out the middleman?
GABBARD: This is just an attempt to smear me—
HIMES: Smear you? You lied under oath in a Senate hearing yesterday, claiming you knew nothing about classified information, while sitting in Signal chats where war plans were discussed. You retweet Kremlin-backed sources, then act shocked when people question your loyalties.
GABBARD: I’m focused on national security—
HIMES: National security? While pushing Russian propaganda and pretending you’re clueless about intelligence leaks? If a Democrat had done half of this, you’d be screaming treason on national TV.
GABBARD: This is about free speech—
HIMES: Free speech? You’re the President’s top intelligence advisor, not some random guy on Twitter. Every word you amplify has consequences. And right now, you’re handing America’s enemies exactly what they want—straight from your "personal account."

Watch her squirm: [link]

I'm sorry, Gud. I told my boss in my annual review a few weeks ago "Look, I am hanging on by a fucking thread, there will be no career growth happening until the world stops being an unending nightmare hellscape. Whatever level I'm at now is the best you're going to get."

I've restarted my neglected daily meditation practice, not because I think it will help me achieve a state of enlightenment or even just super chillness, but because I need every tool I can get my hands on just to reinforce that last thread that I too am hanging on by.

Unrelated (or maybe it IS related): yesterday's impending weather change that made my right hip so hateful has finally arrived, and brought with it an even more hateful migraine. Ubrevly, my beloved, work your magic.

I can relate, though I guess I have the same thread(or two) from forever. still not satisfying, though. I guess I *could* cut back on the activist stuff, but I did that, last year, because Jacqueline died and I Wouldn't Want To Spend My Last Day On A Zoom(and blah, blah blah) but my self-care is not as gratifying as what the people in the articles do, and, at my age, hanging out with mom isn't quite the thing to ease all my lonely moments,although we're fine and all that. But my self-care is sometimes just swapping one screen for another, so, you know, eh. So, no, kind of not *nourished* by that, even though I can find a good laugh once in a while. Sometimes I lie in bed and think "I cheated death for this?!" I wish I could tap into my shadow, white-lady powers and find a manager to yell at, because that is some bullshit. Nearly as much as thinking someone like me has *too much* of anything.(except volunteers who can't help and kind of hit me, again, with "Thank you for your service," which I hate because it reminds me of "so brave1!" so much that I wish they'd curse me instead. Almost.) (And apparently, my superego sounds like Denis Leary...always a healthy sign.)

I’m focused on national security—

I've restarted my neglected daily meditation practice, not because I think it will help me achieve a state of enlightenment or even just super chillness, but because I need every tool I can get my hands on just to reinforce that last thread that I too am hanging on by.

I've gotten back into journaling. Pen and paper journaling, with a lot of reflection on whatever tarot card I've drawn that day.

I've gotten back into journaling

I'm also keeping a pen-and-paper gratitude journal. I am basically dragging my own self kicking and screaming into somewhat better mental health. (Or, at the very least, I am trying SO HARD.)

I type mine, mostly, though I also have notebooks with little jots in them. ETA: I hope that what I wrote wasn't too much, even if I didn't really want to apologize, exactly. But I thought by now maybe I'd be feeling like "It Gets Better," crip-version, right? Or at least where I might say "So far, my big dreams haven't come true, but things are looking pretty damn good, all the same, " But it doesn't, and it isn't. And I'm so upset about that. Even if every day didn't bring me another unpleasant, unheralded assignment.

I broke out the adult coloring books I'd forgotten acquiring 8-10 years ago. There's something genuinely soothing about painstakingly filling in the intricacies of a page of Celtic knotwork designs.

I broke out the adult coloring books I'd forgotten acquiring 8-10 years ago. There's something genuinely soothing about painstakingly filling in the intricacies of a page of Celtic knotwork designs.

I started this recently, albeit in a “goblincore” themed book. When I visited family in Wisconsin and didn’t do it, I found I missed it. It definitely helps me sleep better than doomscrolling before bed.

I started this recently, albeit in a “goblincore” themed book. When I visited family in Wisconsin and didn’t do it, I found I missed it. It definitely helps me sleep better than doomscrolling before bed.

One of my friends got heavily into coloring books during the lockdown, so I made a big coloring CARE package for her with elaborate books I bought for her in Japantown and colored pen and pencil sets I got at the stationary store.

Yesterday was my friend Eleanor's last day at Borderland Books as she's 38 weeks pregnant and almost ready. I could sense she wasn't going to be there much longer so I made a point of dropping in and I'm glad I did. She's turned into a good friend for me, and I'll miss seeing her at the store.

I suppose she could come back and work a day or two down the line, but that seems less likely. I'm going to miss seeing her regularly and our talks. The next time I see her I'll probably be delivering homemade soup to her and minding the baby while she takes a shower.

All of my parasocial places (Borderlands, Comix Experience, Alembic) have taken a hit lately, losing people I really enjoyed seeing. It just changes the dynamic so much in those places when they lose a welcoming woman, and it's guysville when you walk in the door.

Borderland is down to Jude, one of the co-owners. And I love her, and some of the other clerks, but it was special coming in and seeing Jude and Eleanor together (they used to dress up in themed costumes every Friday.).

My friend Zoey quit at Comix Experience quit after running the shop for five years, and if I see the owner Brian at the front desk I often just keep walking. My friends Katt and Katie are still there though.

And my favorite bartender at Alembic, Megan, left. Now it's all dudes behind the bar, which makes a very different vibe.

I do make a point of swinging by my backup bar (Minibar - art and cocktails) on Tuesdays when it opens because Molly opens. It's not just the person themself, but the kind of people they attract into the bar/store. When I saw Molly on Tuesday, I wound up having good talks with strangers at the bar.

Anyway, I'm dependent on these parasocial relationships to get my fix of human engagement.

Though I think once I get into a groove with the Pilates classes I'll have more regular contact.