December 21, 2025

'Twas the Sunday before Christmas

and all through the place

my nerves frayed and tired

asking for grace

Presents are wrapped

tree decorated

here come the gbabies

who impatiently waited

Mimi is tired

there is no doubt

this holiday season

wore her smooth out

But babies are coming

on separate days

love and laughter promised

in so many ways

I cherish the moments

all the cheer in one place

memories made

a smile on my face

But after the papers ripped

and gifts given about

I'll tell 2025

TO GET THE FUCK OUT

****

I was THAT kid

I read the dictionary and encyclopedias. I wanted to know. I've always had insatiable curiosity about why.

In 7th or 8th grade, we covered mythology in English. I was fascinated by stories of love, loss, and punishment. You know the gods...

And I went deeper. I used different color highlighters to highlight mythological references in my dictionary. Blue and green were Greek and Roman. Yellow was Norse. Bigger than life characters who proudly stood for certain things. It was reading categories of categories, if that makes sense. 

Everything divided out, which my ADHD brain was all about.

You have a god and/or goddess for everything. For the sky. Earth. Wars. Peace. Hell. The Hunt. Love. Music. 

You name it, and someone in the mythological world hypes it.

But many of my favorite stories favored the unloved. I was a sucker for Hephaestus. Physically imperfect but an artisan. Freyja, ferocious Nordic goddess tied with magic and lover of cats. I vaguely remember watching "Isis" growing up, and that was the shit right there.

Magic has always intrigued me. Something so small as a twinkle or something so large as a continent forming. Stories of old embrace the beliefs in something much greater than ourselves. Aged bards with outlandish tales of gods, goddesses, and beings beyond the mundane. 

I started my latest book with a seed of an idea. I didn't have a title YET, which is unheard of from me. I need the title first, usually. But this time? I simply took the idea and typed. 

I'm nearly 10,000 words in with the long-term goal of a lengthy series. 

And I love it. 

It IS about mythological characters. But at its core? It's about trust, forgiveness, compassion, and choices. 

More as it comes.

I have updates! Woot!

Started my next novel, a women's fiction, and wrote 3500 words yesterday. It was...glorious! Collapsed in a heap afterwards, but we all know how much those words mean.

💃

More posts later as that unfolds, but I'm surprised and pleased that revelations came forward the more I added.

Discovered waxing again. 😬

I thought, as you aged, the hair on your body became finer. You know, less conspicuous. Plus, less shaving. 🤔

Seems like a got damn lie, let me tell you.

Arguably, the hair on my legs does seem softer. But, here we are, still needing to be rid of it.

The Honey bought me a wax kit a couple years ago, as I had it on my Wish List. I broke that bad boy back out the other day to try and reconnect with my inner waxer.

I'd been watching the Waxing Queen in my reels. This woman is the GOAT. She uses all these really cool waxes and has a no bitching policy. Waxing hairy arms, backs, legs, business areas, and faces. She is amazing and also gave me a little faith in myself to restart this hairless journey.

I had NO idea what in the hell I was doing.

Zero, folks. We all know how true this is in all my endeavors I take on...

Little back story...I am old.

I didn't have a wax warmer thing to hold wax and to attempt the dehairing, myself. I had those shitty Sally Hansen strips that pulled your face off when you went for a small hair patch. Then, I had the most indecent idea to pluck some hairs from my body. I started with my armpit. 😶

I plucked one fucking hair.

That son of a bitch was connected to my SPINE, people. Eyes welled up. Lost the use of my right leg. It was super bad. My armpit issued a cease and desist. I ceased and desisted. 

I have a regular razor, an electric razor, shitty wax strips, and this cool wax kit. 

Why do I even HAVE hair on my body right now??? 😖 Come on, now.

Back to it. 

I've a little bit of wax left over that I'm going to use today after my shower. Facial, of course. But I DID order some fancy new wax beads to try out after these are gone. (They come in tomorrow.) What are my target areas?

The 'stache and under the chin. 

Have you ever waxed your upper lip?

That shit will bring you to your knees. 

But I'm going for it because I AM NO QUITTER!

sigh

This might be super bad again...😑

Surprisingly, I am NOT Bipolar. I have been tested.

I am a lot of things, but, bipolar is not one of them. I know y'all read this blog sometimes and wonder what the fuck.

And that's cool.

Me, too.

It's my Chaos Cow life.

My ADHD brain does not do routines. Thought about this morning as I was making the same breakfast I've had for the past year and a half and doing it in a completely different order than the day before. It's not rote to me.

Nothing is.

Finished "Out of the Shadows" and will parse it out for edits. 

*INSERT ALL THE PARTY EMOJIS*

Moving on.

Because I'm always moving on.

Funny thing. My worst days are when my bones are rickety, and I can't get with anything but the pain. No creativity. Little to no movement. It's a complete stop.

And that's where a lot of my frustration comes from. 

I'm not 25 with a healthy body and free time. I can't attack this writing business as I would like because it seems that when I have momentum, SOMETHING happens. 

Literally.

I bitch, whine, and moan.

Then I move on.

These are the tribulations I face daily, both mentally and physically. But isn't everybody also dealing with something or several somethings?

This economy.

Aging parents.

Disabilities-your own or someone else's.

Divorce.

Food or housing insecure.

My wish for everyone is to keep moving. Keep trying. Keep...keeping. 

I'm starting another book today because, without fail...wholly born plots birth themselves into my wee grey matter as soon as my in-process book looks to wrap up.

That's how I REALLY knew I would be done soon. This damn idea for another book. It's not like I have fourteen (give or take ten) others.

No. Not at allllllllll. 🙄

Even the good stuff can be overwhelming. Take a breath. Then another. But not too quick. 

You'll be studying the inside of your eyelids. 

I'll see you in a couple days with updates. If there ARE updates. 😒

Please Lordt, let there be updates.

Canary: Out of the Shadows COMPLETE

It has finally happened.

I FINISHED writing "Canary: Out of the Shadows". 😌

Let me recap for you.

Started writing and thought I'd bang that son of a gun out by summer.

Spiraled into horrible depression from March-September.

Tried to find my feet again.

Tried new depression med. 

I can actually see daylight.

Wrote a major scene at the end--a battle, of course.

Thought I'd simply squeeze the other battle out of my butt cheeks.

No battle fell out of my ass.

Berated myself, daily, on my shortcomings.

Then it became a THING. You know what I'm talking about. Larger-than-life problem.

Told myself to write the story.

Researched the villains in the battle more.

Winnowed the number down to manageable.

More research.

Tried to write battle longhand.

Beat my own forehead with the composition book.

PROFANITY.

Blogged about writing the battle. Repeatedly.

Sat down in front of my computer yesterday. 

Pounded out that battle above ground scene with intent.

Glanced at same scene this morning.

The offering has been accepted.

Going to stitch chapters and scenes together today. 

Around 74,500 words. 

Yeah. I feel EXACTLY like Frodo. 🙄

I WROTE THE FUCKING SCENE!!!

Sweet Lord.

It has finally happened.

Your heathen child wrote the fucking scene that's been a thorn in her side for months!!!

And I laughed.

And cried.

Whew

I have one, literally, tiny piece at the end. Then EDITS!

Fun Google searches for the day:

How long is the average sword?

What kind of socks would an assassin want?

Let me see a bear's paw. And not the damn succulent, you noob.

Sword forged in forest.

Thread count

Etsy

Amazon

And there we have it. Or mostly have it.

🥳🎉

Anybody already double-book themselves in 2026? No? Just me???

Plugging in appts in my 2026 planner and noticed I'm double-booked on at least two days. 🙄

Because...me.

Still hanging onto this stupid-ass cold from Thanksgiving. I mean, come the fuck on. Taking enough antihistamines to take down a herd of elephants. Probably why I rolled into bed yesterday at 3:30. PM.

Sitting at my desk now, determined to work on "Out of the Shadows", even if someone has to perish. I am NOT above that, at this point. 

Almost tempted to do a clean sweep, but that's lazy and unnecessary. Also, I would never recover from the trauma.

Not to wish the year away, but it's been one. Trying to find even footing, but my body is a shitshow deluxe, and I am not a patient woman. Funny that. Like...I can have patience. Sure. Cool. But when I am triggered?

Oh. My. Fuck.

Hell hath no fury...

And SSDD? Nope.

None for me, thanks.

Oh, and since my brain is a rambling organ, I now have another idea for a story. Because, OF COURSE I DO. I don't tap-dance on the precipice of insanity for nothing, I tell you. 😁

*tappity tap*

Is it January yet?

Never mind. 😑

I already have 11 appts. 

Finding my bootstraps. Giving them a tug.

Your Chaos Cow is back.

I've had appt after appt this week, and I'm damn tired of it. News on the shoulder? AC sprain. Have some ibuprofen+ and physical therapy sheets.

Thank you, LORDT, it was not any worse. 

Does it still hurt?

Oh. Yeah. Like a bad toothache in my right arm.

woot

But that's neither here nor there. Though, it could be here. But definitely not there. More present tense. heh

I'm going to attempt to lock in my last battle for "Out of the Shadows." Emphasis on "attempt" because I am completely over this fucking scene. 

It's going to be massive. My short crazy ass did NOT see that coming, although I should have. 

No.

Literally.

And now I've added four (five?) different baddie entities to enter the ring, and I'm choreographing it in my brain, but it's never the same way twice, which is why I'm simply typing it up and examining from there.

Also, you'll remember my Sweet Simba, the kitty I love with all my soul, passed away a day before Mother's Day this year. I mourn that little ginger shit every damn day.

But I'm working on maybe finding another place in my heart for another heathen ginger boy. I've asked Sim for help. He should have a say in picking his younger brother.

Been manifesting since September. Hoping for an adoption around early-mid February.

In the meantime, I've been making cooing noises at all my ginger kitten algorithm finds on FB Reels. 

💕

Therapy this morning. Feels like forever since we chatted.

Picture of Simba, because...Simba. 💖

I want to have a clever title, but I am fresh out

Fresh out of a lot of things. 

Thanksgiving was good. I DID mess up the mac 'n' cheese. Yeah. Catch that. Overcooked the bastards. 😖

Also caught a cold or something from one or more of the grands. How do I know this? Probably because the last time I was sick, bronchitis and PNEUMONIA, it was directly after a grandchild bday party. Lo and behold, my immunocompromised self loves rolling the dice.

True story? I'd do it all again. 

This year has been...something. January lasted three months. February wasn't much better. End of this year is OctoberNovemberDecember.

Whoa! Pump the brakes. Jesus. Can a girl catch her breath?

haha

No.

This week I have two med appts, an ortho appt (fuck my right shoulder to hell and back), and a therapy appt. 

Oh, and I'm going cold turkey on the Pepsi.

Y'all, pray for Molly.

I'd lost around fifty pounds and gained every damn pound back because of sugar. Well, because I'm a  weak-ass woman with sugary wishes and caffeine dreams.

Either way.

Back on the wagon.

sigh...

Thought I'd throw in the fact I'm driving the struggle bus, trying to fix a flat, and wondering where in the hell that squeaky noise is coming from.

Could be me whining.

I'm beyond frustrated with so much right now.

The chronic pain. The depression. Anxiety. ADHD. Missing Simba. Right shoulder. Insomnia. Fatigue every minute of every day. This BS cold or whatever the hell it is.

I'm a shitshow. We've discussed this. I accept it as my default. Most times, I have a lot of fun with it. Simply shrug my shoulder at something outright Crystaly and move on. Giggle at myself. 

I'm not laughing.

I'm not remotely amused. 

I feel diminished. Like I can't shine properly. 

And, I DO love to shine. 🌞

Maybe I'll receive some lovely news about my shoulder. Or I'll find a day, any day, with energy. Or I'll want to write again without forcing myself. 

Or

Or

I guess we'll all see.

💖