Category Archives: Random Crap

Still not in jail, y’all!

Victor is still out of the country and I’m still documenting my days for him on instagram:

To be continued…

I really blossom when left alone. Until I set the house on fire and the credit cards get canceled.

Victor left for Japan this weekend so that means I have to be an adult this week and I promised him that while he was gone I would yell at myself to meet my business deadlines and throw away the cheese wrappers on the counter and a variety of other things that I forgot almost immediately.  I am however, keeping him in the loop through my instagram:

I didn’t actually buy the teddy bear though because when I tried to put it on the check-out lane it didn’t fit and as it went down the conveyor belt he knocked over a shitload of magazines and Juicy Fruit and people were staring and I was like, “JESUS, BEARY MANILOW.  I CAN’T TAKE YOU ANYWHERE.  YOU HAVE TO STOP DAY DRINKING” and then I ran away.

I don’t know if this is a real word or just a small child learning how to curse but it was scratched really high so I think it was either an adult or a baby with a knife standing on the sink.  Also, I like how the mirror gives me holes in my hands like Jesus.

Life is an adventure, y’all.


It’s a problem everywhere really.

Hailey: Today at school we talked about the gender gap against female pirates.

me:  Um…what?

Hailey:  It’s very male-dominated and also men make more, which is totally not cool.

me:  I mean, I guess there are probably more male pirates than female pirates.

Hailey:  Huh?

me:  But honestly I’m just not sure that being a pirate is even an occupation I’d  want more representation in.

Hailey: Why are you talking about pirates?

me:  Me? You’re the one talking about pirates.

Hailey: What?  PILOTS. We talked about the gender gap against PILOTS. Pirates don’t even exist.

me:  Oh.  That makes more sense.  And also pirates totally exist.  Terrible, sexist pirates.

I can see clearly now and there are spiders everywhere.

So today I got new glasses.

They look almost exactly like my old glasses because I’m very boring and don’t like change but the lenses are stronger because I’m also very old and read in the dark too much.

So I’m walking around and everything looks slightly off and warped and sharp but actually it’s because things are suddenly clear and I’m just not used to it.  I’ve gotten so used to the blurry that when things are in focus they’re almost too clear.  Like I’m being shouted at by my eyes.  And it struck me as a very good analogy because it’s very similar to how I feel when I come out of a depression.

Suddenly my tunnel vision fades and there is more sun.  Things I couldn’t concentrate on before are obvious.  The things I ignored because they faded away during the darker times are suddenly clear and obvious and demanding my attention.  And it’s great.  But also disorienting.  And wonderful.  And terrifying.

I stopped at a rosebush next to the eyeglass place and I was struck at how clear and sharp and beautiful the roses were.  The same ones I’d walked by only a few minutes ago and had ignored.  I was literally stopping to smell the roses, except instead of smelling I was instagramming them but I still felt the meaning of the moment

And I held one up to capture it on camera and it was lovely and it reminded me to appreciate these moments when things are so clear and vivid and good.

And then I looked even deeper at the subtle details I take for granted and I screamed, “WHAT THE FUCK.  THERE’S A SPIDER” and then the spider ran onto my hand and I yelled:  “THERE’S A SPIDER ON ME.  JESUS FUCKING CHRIST GET IT OFF WHEREDIDITGO WHYISTHISHAPPENING?“And the two small children eating ice cream on the bench near me just stared as I jumped around slapping myself to trying to make the spider (which was now invisible and probably laying eggs in me) fall off of me and then I couldn’t find the spider even on the ground and I thought maybe I needed even stronger glasses but then I realized that the strong glasses led to this problem in the first place and maybe I was better off when I was ignoring roses and unable to see spiders crawling all over me and that fucked up all my metaphors and so I just took a deep breath and said, “Take care of your eyes while you still can” to the small kids and then their mom looked at me even more warily and I realized that maybe that sounded like a threat so I added, “Like, don’t read at night without good lighting.  It ruins your eyes.  And eat your carrots.”  And the mom was like, “Yeah.  That’s what I always tell you kids, right?” and I was happy to help, although I’m fairly sure the kids didn’t understand the connection between spider attacks and protecting your vision but they had ice cream so they just shrugged and went back to eating.

This post had a point but I lost it.  I blame spiders.

Fucking stop it

Dear charitable organizations who inexplicably keep sending me money:  FUCKING STOP IT.

Is it just me?  I get all these letters asking for money but there are pennies and nickels glued to the requests and I guess that it’s supposed to prove that it only takes 9 cents a day to not kill cats or something, but I’m not going to give you money because CLEARLY YOU SUCK AT HANDLING IT.  You need money and you’re sending it to me.  WTF.  I don’t want money from orphans or dogs on death row.  I’ve gotten probably six dollars in guilt change this year and it only serves to remind me not to donate to you anymore because 1) this feels super manipulative and 2) is the money I gave you last year being used to send guilt change to everyone else?  Am I part of the problem?  Because that money has to come from somewhere.

Also you all stick the coins on the letter with this grey goop that I have to scrape off and I want to just throw it away but I can’t because my grandmother said throwing change away is bad luck so I have to open the envelope and wash the gunk off your guilt change, and then there are pictures of orphans and disappointed Jesuses glaring at me while I do it, like, “So you’re going to just take the money from orphans?  Really?”  And yeah, I guess I am because you certainly can’t be trusted not to throw it into envelopes to give to people who clearly don’t need it.   Also, pennies are germy and gross me out.  They live in the bottom of purses until they gets stuck to lose hard candy and then they get covered with a layer of sticky lint scum and then eventually you get grossed out when the pennies get stuck to your keys and then you throw the whole purse away.  Pennies are garbage money and everyone knows it.

Also, while I’m being bitchy to people who are trying to help others can I just add that I don’t want anymore notepads reminding me how many people die of starvation each day, or cards with cats having some sort of lobotomy.  I don’t want that.  NO ONE WANTS THAT.  (Also, PETA, you’ve sent me the cat lobotomy cards twice in the same year and it’s starting to lose its shock value, although actually I can’t complain too much because I totally used one as a Christmas card to someone I don’t like.)

Conclusion: I am a terrible person and I’d like you to stop sending me money proving that.




Happy Birthday, Dorothy Barker!

Today is Dorothy Barker’s birthday and she is three.  That means in dog years  she is 21 today and is now technically able to drink.  And that makes me jealous because I’m still not allowed to drink because of tuberculosis so now my dog has more freedoms than I do.  And then Victor was like, “First of all, how did you even manage to make this all about you?” and then he told me I wasn’t allowed to give Dorothy Barker a celebration drink and I was like, “I’m not giving the dog booze, Victor.  She can’t day drink alone.  That’s how alcoholism starts.”  And Victor didn’t agree with my reasoning but the end result was the same so he gave up and instead I just gave her a surprise party, which consisted of me yelling “SURPRISE, BITCH!  IT’S YOUR BIRTHDAY!” and Dorothy Barker was like:

“OH MY GOD, YOU REMEMBERED?!” ~ Dorothy Barker

Just kidding.  Actually she looked a little confused because she doesn’t speak English, but I think she genuinely appreciated my excitement and/or the bull penis in my hand.

Happy birthday, Dorothy Barker.

PS.  This is Dorothy Parker back when I thought her name was “Knives.”  It was a phase we both grew out of.

PPS.  The bull penis wasn’t for me.  It’s for my dog.  It’s weird that I need to clarify that.  I realize pet stores call them “bully sticks” or “pizzle sticks” but they’re totally dried bull penises and I believe in calling a rose a rose and you need to know that your dog is chewing on bull penises.  After they’ve been chopped up and turned into jerky, I mean.  Not, like in the wild.  That would be crazy and probably very dangerous for both dogs and bulls.  This has been your unrequested educational announcement of the day.

The Haunted Dollhouse, final reveal!

Today is Halloween – my favorite holiday of the year – so today I’m celebrating by showing you the final room of my dollhouse.  Thank you for humoring me with my super weird obsession.  Click here to see all the other rooms.

The outside (with Rolly) for scale:

Click to embiggen

One day when I have more time I’m going to make a full list of all of the horror/fantasy allusions in the house, but a few of the nods in this floor are from: Walking Dead, Sleepy Hollow, Wizard of Oz, Hamlet, Addams Family, King Arthur, A Rose for Emily, Moulin Rouge, Labyrinth, Game of Thrones, Egyptian Book of the Dead, Chronicles of Narnia, The Bell Witch, Dungeons & Dragons, Alien Autopsy, Corpse Bride, Dracula, Silver Bullet, Monkey’s Paw, Peter Pan, Snow White, Exorcist, Freaks, Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children, The Shining, Stardust, Jurassic Park, Tiffany Aching, Sleeping Beauty, Alfred Hitchcock, The Changeling, Read Window, Sherlock Holmes.

I still have a lot more to do.  Maybe next Halloween it’ll be done.  But somehow I doubt that.

A few videos on instagram:

Halloween means the final dollhouse reveal. (More pics on the blog.)

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The final room of the dollhouse. Happy Halloween, y'all.

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Haunted dollhouse, part 4

ONE DAY UNTIL HALLOWEEN.  And three rooms left to show you of my miniature haunted dollhouse.  If this all seems confusing go to this link to see all of the haunted dollhouse posts.

I was going to show my favorite room today but I’m still working on a piece so instead I’ll show you that tomorrow.  Instead, today I’ll show you the attic and the rooftop conservatory.  Ready?

The attic:

Click to embiggen.

The dollhouse in the back is the exact replica of this dollhouse. It’s one of my favorite things.

The conservatory:

I was going to list all of the horror/fantasy references in these rooms but actually I sort of love watching you guys identify them because then I feel like slightly less of a freak for this obsession.

A few videos for a closer look.

Haunted dollhouse countdown. The attic and conservatory.

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Haunted dollhouse. The roof. Tomorrow? We explore the third floor.

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Recognize anything?

It runs in the family.

Victor told me that my sister sent us an email so I read it and it began with:  “OH SHIT.  TAKE CARE OF THIS BITCH RIGHT NOW BEFORE I CUT HER FACE OFF,” and I said to Victor, “Jesus.  Well, clearly she’s overreacting” but then I read the rest of the email and I was like, “WTF.  I AM GOING TO CUT THIS BITCH’S FACE OFF.” And then Victor shrugged and said it was good that my sister and I were terrible at follow-through because he couldn’t afford bail money for both of us and I was going to argue with him but then I got distracted and forgot what we were talking about.

So I probably won’t cut anyone’s face off but I will say that if you ever get a sales pitch from someone using my words to sell you some expensive plagiarized mental illness cure-all workshop or bullshit video please do your research and look up the name of the company followed by the word “scam” before even thinking about reaching for your wallet or sharing it with others.  In fact, you should probably do that with everything you’re considering paying for.

I’m not including names here because I don’t want them getting free press and I already have people working on getting it removed so it’ll be fine.  I have people plagiarize my stuff or use it uncredited all damn the time and it’s frustrating but part of being a writer.  Having my plagiarized words used to get money from people dealing with mental illness though is just infuriating and I want to bite everything. Just please be aware that there are a lot of great places out there to help with anxiety and depression, but there are also some sleazy assholes that will take advantage of you for cash.

PS.  I don’t have a good graphic for this so instead here’s a series of gifs representing my sister and me today:













Both of us:

Neither of us but I like the gif:

Updated: Just an FYI…I’m getting DM’s from people who are worried that they’ve shared some of my quotes on their blogs.  Dude, if you quoted me on your blog and attribute the quote to me that is awesome and wonderful and I love it.  This person took paragraphs from Furiously Happy and rewrote it to take credit for it (including changing my name to theirs) to convince people to buy their anti-anxiety video.  Which is giving me anxiety.  And now it’s giving other people anxiety.  It’s like The Ring but with slightly less murders.

Haunted dollhouse, part 2.

Yesterday I shared the first room of my haunted dollhouse and you gave me some INCREDIBLE ideas I’m working on, so keep them coming.  Today I’m showing you the tarot card room.

Click to embiggen

PS.  I made the Babadook book last night and it isn’t perfect but since the original wasn’t either I’m giving myself time to warm up to it.

Day two. Room 2. The haunted dollhouse tour continues.

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