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To the worst fckn team and a racist MAGA dick hole.

I’m glad I have the adrenaline rush of the abortion rally today to sustain me through this difficult time.

Please send money and well wishes, and money. Mostly money. Thanks.

I fell asleep this afternoon and dreamed the first plot point for my book. Let me be clear. I don’t have a book idea or a plot of any kind or an idea at all in any form.

But now I have a plot point! If I want to write a book about zombies and/or pandemics. I like reading those books so maybe it would be fun to write one. It’s an interesting plot point, too. Small but interesting.

For the third year now, I have baby birds on my balcony. They made a nest in 2020 in a hanging Ikea lantern, with a pane of glass missing, and they have come back twice now. I was completely obsessed that first year. Less so last year. And this year, I still enjoy it I guess, but it’s kinda old news now. Plus it’s pretty gross. I have puppy pads underneath the nest for the poop but it’s like okay go fly away now birds, enough with your poop.

I do like seeing the little baby birds. They are cute in an ugly sort of way.

There are at least three. I didn’t name them.

UPDATE: there are four. Four baby birds. I saw them all today when mama bird was feeding them. House finches, they are. Four baby house finches about to leave the nest.

UPDATE 2: two birds left the nest. Two remain. I call them Ryland and Ryland 2. He doesn’t think it’s funny.

UPDATE 3: the remaining two birds left the nest. They were gone when I woke up this morning. Just like that. And on the same day as Ry’s last day of high school.

I’m not a fan of westerns in general, but I’ve been watching the new series Billy the Kid and if you think it’s only because the guy playing billy the kid is crazy hot, well then you’d be right.

I was slightly worried about his age. But according to the internet, he appears to be in his late twenties. a bit on the young side even for me but what can you do.

So, I was supposed to be heading to Boston in two weeks for a design conference and I was very excited about it. I was gonna see friends and find my old train conductor crush and see the Red Sox (and the bruins maybe too if they could only get their shit together and win some fckn games) but nooooo. I can’t go, all because my kid is “graduating” from “high school”.

The universe conspires against me every chance it gets.

But I am happy Ry is graduating. things looked bleak for awhile there, especially with all the remote schooling. It was a real slog getting him across the finish line. But he did it. I’m proud of him for not giving up.

But it’s sad, too, for all the typical reasons, you know, baby growing up, empty nest, passage of time, death looming on my doorstep, etc.

I won’t get too sad though, because he’ll probably end up living with me until I die and this graduation will be the only thing worth celebrating. Well, until I die.