I wish it was always Friday in October

Fridays are always good but Fridays in October seem to be extra. I don’t know what it is. Because it’s fall and it’s cooler weather and the colors and the leaves and the sky and the general sort of spookiness that permeates the whole month? Yes, all of that. More probably. Plus, the word October just feels good to say, the letters and the way they form in my mouth. Also octoberfest is one of my favorite beers.

So we love Fridays in general, because well duh, and October, because it’s something special (as just discussed). Fridays + October = magic. the possibilities of the universe swirl all around us, in the crisp air, gathering in piles, in the unknown, the hidden secrets, in the fading light, the growing dark.

I write this not on a Friday, but on a Tuesday night, waaaaay past my bedtime. I am so very tired, I want to sleep, but I’m also restless and anxious. For all the usual reasons, but also because I struggled with a bad headache most of the day and worry for tomorrow.

But hey. Look. my new mask. a nice warm pretty coral. and it looks okay! pinks are not usually my color. Whenever I get a new mask I’m reluctant to wear it because I don’t want to get it dirty, I want it to stay clean and perfect forever. I am such a dummy consumer.

I also got a blue one with bright orange neon straps. I like it, but it doesn’t look as good. BUT I LIKE IT.

As with water bottles, I have too many masks. how many water bottles and masks does one person need? Apparently, the number is a fucking shit ton.

Have you gotten any new masks lately that you want to talk about? Hit me up! [email protected] Or if you prefer to talk about your new favorite hydroflask color (mine’s eggplant!) then hashtag me! #waterbottlesCANbeaboyfriend.

My images are probably not going to work. Shrug.


Okay my answer. John wick can kill me and Aragorn can marry me and Jason Bourne can fuck me. Obvious answers I guess.

In other news of the world, I ordered Ry’s cap and gown today. Ahhhhh!!! Insert all the emojis.

His graduation will be at red rocks, which will be cool.

And my wedding will be in April.

2022 is gonna be crazy.

You got me in a heady drop

I love the John Wick movies, they are among my top favorites. Keanu, the music, the lighting and atmosphere, Keanu, the violence-as-art, the mythology, the clothes, the subtle symbolism, Keanu.

My favorite scene/death might just be from the first movie, in the Red Circle club sequence. There is one particular kill he does that just gets me and if I had to die by jobn wick’s hand, I would want it to be in this manner:

He sneaks up on you, pushes you against the wall. covers your mouth with his hand. Plunges his knife deep inside you, his eyes locked with yours as you sink down, your life draining away… your light, your light…

It’s not supposed to be sexy right? But jeez. JEEZ. I can’t help it. Keanu is sexy as sexy can be and with the way it’s filmed, that music, the blue light, the whole mood? Well it just absolutely consumes me.

I know I know. I shouldn’t find violence sexy. We shouldn’t make it feel artistic or beautiful or redemptive.

What can I say. The body wants what it wants.

Ooohh here’s a good fuck marry kill game (only in this version it’s who would I want to fuck me, marry me or kill me): John Wick, Jason Bourne, Aragorn.

I’m going to dream about this tonight. I’ll have my answer tomorrow.

To sleep, to dream

Sometimes I feel bad that I care about nothing. That I am inspired by and fortified by nothing. I feel nothing, I have nothing, I am nothing.

So I feel bad about this, sometimes. I think of ways I can be better. Little ways, big ways. I end up losing my motivation pretty quick. It is easier to care about nothing than to care about something. I’m good at it, I’m good at caring about nothing, and also, this way, I don’t have to pretend as much.

(Because I don’t like pretending. but I do it a lot. in fact that is the way I live my life, pretending all the time. so maybe I like it after all? I don’t know, doesn’t matter. It all feels the same to me anyway.)

I was not pretending when I cried through the last episode of joe pera talks with you. A few nights ago I’d never even heard of this show, and now, tonight, this first Friday of fall, I am crying and filled with such love and tenderness for this sweet, quiet, goofy little program.

So to recap: Real life? No feeling. Make believe life in Michigan? I’ve never felt more deeply in my entire life.