railenthe | Entries tagged with ramble

I'm raising $6,000 until 12/30/2023 for Help me yeet the busted teeth!. Can you help? https://www.paypal.com/pools/c/8ZNpRBuQ5h

Well y'all, I don't have much at all here... but I do have a bank account that is sitting at a negative 300 almost.

the extra money that I was going for was for unexpected expenses like meds, kitty expenses, and the like.

however, things are so messed up over here that I am going to have to take the first bit of what y'all have provided to pay off some bills that are otherwise going to bounce tomorrow because I have that overdraft hanging over My head like I do.

Otherwise, I'm not even going to be able to keep anyone up to date on anybody this—a payment plan on my phone bill has bought me some time there but it can no longer wait.

I do need to be able to get hold of my doctors, after all.

Around the beginning of the month, I received my diagnosis of interstitial cystitis: a rarer condition that is a part of what they call the 'painful bladder syndromes,' which is Exactly What It Says On The Tin--I get a level of pain that is so high that I literally cannot function in daily life. Right after we confirmed that yes I am a zebra three times over, we started treatment for it. Basically, they shoot heparin, alkaline water (it's basically liquid baking soda), and a heckin LOT of lidocaine directly into the bladder.

It's amost a month of biweekly treatments, and I'm gonna admit to y'all right now...I'm starting to feel like myself again.

I hadn't realized just how much of my lack of energy and overall general misery was just because of this specific condition. Like seriously, you know what I just did?

I sat down and wrote a page.

I wrote a page, y''all! I wrote an actual paage!

IDK if anyone understands what I'm trying to convey here. I have been trying to do literallly anything, and it's been so hard to actually pull that off. Between pain anad brain (not too far past this time last year, I was in the looney bin again for my bipolar deciding to just basically destroy me to death) I haven't been able to do anything, go anywhere, just...

I'm not getting my point across, I don't think. But...something is happening.

Something good.

Current Mood: chipper
Current Location: doctor's office waiting for a ride that kinda, uh, didn't show up
Current Music: Gettin' In The Way--Jill Scott

Ok here we go

4 UTIs and 5 antibiotics later my new urogynecologist finally agrees with me that something is seriously fucky with things. The low back pain and needles in my pelvic area currently don't have an explanation — tests, tests, and more tests are in my future.

We need to figure it out sooner rather than later. This is a kind of pain that I *do* have a frame of reference for: it feels like my leg did the year that working at the hotel fucked it up so bad. A deep, burning-but-yet-cold, stinging pain, bouncing around like cursed glass fragments. The kind of pain that prompted my dad (bless him) to hand me a blunt and say, "Smoke this before your leg falls off."

You bet your sweet patootie that I'm loading up my vape when I get home, just gonna THC this into as much oblivion as I can.

Luckily for me I might be in better shape for the next couple of months. I somehow managed to get COVID for the third time and I don't even really leave the house for anything.

The resultant fatigue has been kicking my butt lately. I think the best comparison is when you take CON damage in D&D —— you're permanently weaker, with a lower defense and lower HP. Guess I better hit a Pokemon Center and get some HP up!

The year is new, and there will be some updates coming. Big ones. There's news in the offing...

I have been miserable for 3 weeks since catching a rare form of bacterial pneumonia. I've been essentially on bedrest because I simply Do Not Have the strength.

It's come with a case of lymphitis on par with what my mom used to get. It's in my face, my neck, my back, my groin—on really bad days it hits my LEGS.

Days like this? You strip naked (for the fever) and grab a pair of blankets (for the chills) and basically craft yourself into a ~~delicious~~ human burrito with enough open space to keep your temperature level, you grab a plushie, and you take a go-lay-down.

Which is what I'm doing right now.

I got a doctor's appointment over the vidyachat in an hour. . . But I been up since six. I need a nap.

Also oh hey they fixed the rich text editor. I might be able to share my dinky beginner drawing skills soon!

Current Music: Kevin Kendle—Herschel 36

(TL;DR for those who want just the meat and none of the heart-vomit: Beloved kitty gone from cancer and I'm not ok.)

___
We put my dear beloved kitty DP down today. He was 16.

We realized he was in trouble when he abruptly stopped eating and started being cuddly with the entire house.

After panicked searching, my partner found a vet that would do the job.

He declined fast. The tumor they found was like a stone. There was no chance. Stomach cancer in a senior age cat is a death sentence. They can't recover.

It's far kinder to let him go than to take extraordinary measures. ...we couldn't have done that either way, because we're literally poor.

We gave him one last night of cuddles before we sent him across the bridge to wait for me.

We tried to find a ride for two hours.

I actually dehydrated myself crying and the only reason I'm not right now is because I literally can't right now. At 8:45, at my altar because I have a broken ankle and could not make the heroic trek on foot to the vet's office, but with a paw on my fiance's hand and my voice as one last message from me (via Telegram), he finally stopped trying to fight the drugs, dozed off...and slipped off to wait for me in the After.

...I hope I didn't frighten the neighbors with the primal scream that I only barely managed to bite back. Though the Anguished Grief-Striken Negro Wailing™️ may have caused some concern.

I have a hard enough time if the dead body was empty when I got there. I freak out. I get sick. I—Well, I'd call it spiraling into apocalyptic despair, but "spiraling" implies at least a little mercy, a little reprieve before I hit the bottom. No, it's more like the ground teleports to meet me. Pretty much everyone who knows me and cares half a whit about me knows about this form of thanatophobia of mine ([i]thanatophobia[/i] is the fear of death). But I so wanted to be there for my darling boy as he crossed over.

My fiance literally took five minutes expressing his absolute prayers-answered gratitude that I couldn't be there.

He said that seeing this would have broken me beyond repair. The harsh lights, the antiseptic air...the quiet room that made it clear that this was a huge moment...the second life left his frail, still-plushie-soft body—

I can feel the scream rising again in my chest, like mercury in an old thermometer that's so old its glass has begun to craze and frost over, as I try to explain the absolute hollow-point bullet I dodged to you.

He said that between everything involved, and knowing what he has learned about me, he already knew that this was a mercy that he had to grant. He'd been cagey about getting me out there, and knew what had to be done.

Our ride text-attempts didn't get responses until 9:30 AM.

According to the vet, it was a good thing we got there when we did...because he wouldn't have made it that long.

My dear darling boy would have died in my arms, wrapped in the hot-pink fleece blanket I'd been laying on the past few weeks.

...I know for an absolute fact that my fiance was right.

I have suffered many, many things in my life. I was shot in the knee with my cousin's bb gun at 5 and whipped with a switch (flexy bendy stick) for "lying." My mother's death at 9, from breast cancer, during BCA month—so abbreviated because my keyboard insists on planting a godsdamned pink ribbon emoji after that demon disease's name. My grandfather's death, where I held it together just long enough to break down HARD in the limo...where my dumbass cousins cracked up laughing at my grief, mocking the sound that had ripped its way out of me after five days of zero tears and probably starting my path to a flattened affect. 9/11. Rape and PTSD. Illegal eviction. Bipolar crashes so hard that I actively wanted to die immediately.

None of them,
not a one,
hurt like this.

I wouldn't have cracked.

I would have simply disintegrated. I know there wouldn't have been any coming back from losing my friend and familiar if I'd had to actually watch the spark leave his beautiful but cataractian eyes.

(Well fuck there go the tears. Guess I'm hydrated again.)

The poor dear was only home from his boarder's for 13 hours.

He spent his last 13 hours with me. With us.

He was only here 13 hours but it felt like we experienced 13 years of love from him.

He was only here 13 hours, but the place feels so damned empty without his old-man meow.

... as weird as it is to say, I'm not sure I would trade those 13 hours for another day with him. I know he was hurting. He was weak, tired, physically unable to process input anymore. When we nabbed him, while he was in the crate, he frantically tried to reach me, even going as far as getting up on his wobbly spindly legs and charging the carrier door. But he melted into my body when I swaddled and carried him later, snuggling into my chest and neck like old times, and I could feel him: he seemed to be saying, "I've gotten everything I needed. Now I can rest." And when I realized that, I broke. But...

...in that short time, I felt so much love. From my fiance, who immediately fell in love with the boy; and from the boy himself, just happy to feel, smell, and hear me for just a little longer.

In that short time, love came home.

Now, I'm in the dark. I've lost the moon.

And my grief is the night sky, heavy with rain clouds.

And tomorrow I am home alone.

I'd be lying if I said I was positive I'll be OK when I wake up. But anything is better than what bearing witness would have done to me. I know the only reason I might have survived that would have been my brain calling an emergency shutdown and rendering me catatonic.

...please. if you can...candles, prayers, affirmations. Anything.

I want to get through this. I'm just not sure I can.

I'm in the airport, waiting for my flight to arrive. It was supposed to be here by now--specifically, we were supposed to be in the air by this point--but something delayed it. So now I'm just people watching in the gate area.

I've noticed something about watching people here: either they're taking their time, looking like nothing in the world is bothering them for any reason...or they're rushing around like their clothes are on fire. There simply _is_ no in between about this.

Me, I'm sitting around, just watching my phone as it pops up updates on the flight, playing games, and futzing around with photo editing.

It seems like airports = hurry up and wait. So I'll do just that.

In the light of the library, I can see that my computer is dusty as hell. It's definitely A Look(tm). But it's not the computer that I"m worried about right now.

No, right now I'm trying to get my blood sugar meter to talk to the computer, so that I can get last month's data printed out and accounted for.

I technically do not have a diabetes diagnosis, not of any type. The numbers don't read up to it. But my glucose levels have been confirmed to be weird. Not weird enough for medication, but weird enough that I need to be monitoring them myself every day.

Which, technically speaking, is fine by me. I really enjoy looking at my numbers and knowing if I'm getting somewhere or not. I mean, hell, I own one of those body analyzer scales, and I wear a Fitbit daily—and have since...actually, let me get my notes...

Oh wow, my app has the literal first day noted. November 15, 2012. So, pretty quick after I started getting my health in shape from that guy. No doubt he would have thought this entire thing, the whole idea of fitness wearables, was stupid. Good thing that I don't have to justify myself to him anymore.

ANYWAY

There are a lot of bits and bobs of information to keep track of here. There's the actual blood glucose numbers, and there's other stuff like activity levels (I could be better) and weight (I DEFINITELY could be doing better there) to keep track of. That will be easier to improve now that I'm on a new med that actually works.

Yeah, after a bit, the dose of gabapentin that I was on just wasn't doing anything, and when I went to my new doctor, he immediately put me on something else, pregabalin (brand name: Lyrica). When I tell you that the improvement was damn near instant—like, hugely instant. I feel close to what I think normal is as far as pain levels go now. I haven't yet tried to push this new normal to its limits, but it's tempting to see just how much I can do now. I think I'll try to take it easy, though, get used to it before I jump into the deep end. Maybe I'll check my app for low-impact workouts and try one a week to start.

This is a trip. Seriously.

Never mind the fact that we celebrated YULE this year, on account of both of us being witches.

The year has flown by, and I still have to stop and process the fact that I'm now facing life as part of a pair, not on my own. The house smells of holiday and sage (because I sage the apartment a couple times a week). As modern as this building is, it's still at the very least [i]mildly[/i] haunted, so we have to do maintenance on it once in a while.

But it's still the best place I've ever been. And the best situation I've ever been in.

Let's unwind for the rest of this hellscape year, and pray to whatever god/spirit/entity is your go-to that WE CONQUER THIS SHIT. IDK about y'all but I'm tired of living in a plague era

Today was a job interview day.

Actually, more accurately, it was a followup of a job interview. There was a lot of paperwork and a surprisingly easy-flow conversation with the man who might be/is/IDK, it's highly likely that this man is my new boss.

It looks like I'm gonna be flipping burgers for more than minimum wage now.

Well technically, that'd be FLAME-GRILLING burgers for more than minimum wage. But the place has an anti-harrassment policy, and it has a policy that protects trans people in the workplace.

And me being a trans people, that means a lot in considering a job in a place.

Thanks to that lucky interview, I don't have eighteen thousand applications to fill out in the morning. I can just chill the hell out until I find out when I start.

So, a few days ago, I found out that I don't have a job right now.

It proved impossible to get me from this city all the way to St. Louis, and as a result, my tenure as a factory worker is officially over.

What surprises me is that I'm taking this better than I did losing my job at the hotel. But then again, that was an even bigger case of BS than this case: this was the year that they discovered that my slum apartment complex was full of ...ahem, pestilence, and they laid me off supposedly until I could get it taken care of. Well, while I was out there, they canned me before I could get it done.

In a way, this feels similar. I lost this job through circumstances that I couldn't do anything about myself.

More than the last job, though, this was killing my body. My back is wonky, my knees complain more, and through something completely unrelated, my shoulder is just plain fucky, for lack of a better word.

But, when I stop to think about it, I don't regret any of this, either. Everything led me here, to a place where I am doing better than I have in a long time.

BUT the fact remains that this means that I'm out of money coming in.

We're cutting back to essentials until we can get this situation put back together, but man, it's kind of scary. I've never been in this position before: New city, new neighbors, learning to live with a significant other--it's all foreign to me. And while I search for a job, I am basicallly a house spouse until further notice. I mean, I want to be a two-check house, but apparently that ain't just yet.

And yet, I have never felt quite this serene.

I'm not going to ask questions. That'll jinx everything that we have going on right now.

I'm just going to use this downtime to refresh and recover from the last few months.

Now, back to my podcast.

Current Mood: anxious
Current Music: *actually listening to a podcast about a royal conspiracy theory*

I write this from my new living room.

That's right. I said "my."

Yesterday was my moving day. I landed in this wonderful little place with my wonderful partner, and now I am finally out.

I have to wait for my other stuff to get a pickup day--the truck that we got to get my stuff out of there wasn't quite big enough. We have like...half of my stuff. Very few of the clothes that I have to pick up are guaranteed to fit me. After all, it's been like three years, thirty pounds, and AN ENTIRE THREE NEW CUP SIZES UP FROM WHERE I WAS.

Yah you read that right.

It's ridiculous.

I'll have to see what fits and what needs to be donated directly to the needy.

The thing I'm really looking forward to when my kittens arrive. We had to wait for everything else to be situated before we bring them home with us.

Home.

With us.

Don't wake me up, please.

Current Mood: Both happy & literally high rn

America day.

Explosions.

Lights,

Barbeque.

I'm doing none of it.

It's too hot and too...mosquito-y.

We holed up in the house to get away from the noise.

I went so far as to get back sto FFXIV. Best decision ever.

In fact, I'm headed back to Eorzea until it cools off enough to actually sleep.

It's like 80F in the house with the AC on... At leasts I have my pretty boys back.

Yup. I'm going fishing.

Remind me to suss out image sizes for posting. Apparently my screengrab is TOO BEEG.

Current Mood: IT'S FRIGGEN HOT MAN

The good news is that I've managed to get a raise. The bad news is that my way out of here has hit a snag. As it turned out, the place that I was thinking about putting in an application for is backed up to hell and back, and I'm just one more paper in the stack.

So I'm going to have to dust off my passwords for things like Indeed, CareerBuilder, etc.

I'm definitely not going back to housekeeping. Damn near twelve years of that was enough. Between the burnout and the literal sciatica, there's just no way I'm going to be able to do that again.

Meanwhile, I'm trying to figure out a lot of things. For one, I know two things for certain:

1) I am definitely not aro, and

2) I am definitely more ace than I thought.

I am perplexed by the people who don't get acespec identities. For one, it's like, what are you afraid of, that we won't do something? And the infighting about labels. They get called unnecessary, but those of us who have them worked hard to be seen. (Let me get one thing clear: I do not support foisting labels on people who didn't ask for them; this is all about one's own labels.)

It seems to be an old guard vs. new guard thing, this aversion to more labels even just existing. As (an old) millennial, I am all for the new phraseology. The words to explain how I feel didn't exist in my teens, or even my late twenties. I am positively enamored with the fact that a way to explain me exists now, when it didn't before.

And I don't want that taken away. Which is what all this arguing feels like: "your labels are ridiculous, our old ones are good enough."

It gets dismissed as "the tumblrification of identity," but the fact is, things like Tumblr aren't exactly completely new. Before, ideas like this were disseminated in person (something that you can't really do right now in the era of COVID), or on message boards and such. I don't understand what would make that superior to what is going on now. Yeah, we stumble and fumble around a bit, but so did the old guard. In a lot of ways, we are more similar than we are different; it's another case of vs., in this case Old Tired versus Young Tired. I mean fuck, we should be at least bonding over that much!

The worst part of it is that I feel like I can't really speak up. I didn't really fall solidly into where I am until a couple of years ago, after a lot of living in denial about it. (That...that happens to a lot of us in the LGBTQ++ community, I've noticed.) When I finally felt like I could say something on it, there was all this...well I wouldn't call it vitriol, but it was a whole lot of Not Nice. You know, shit like "that doesn't exist" "you're just normal" "How is that different from the rest of people out there?"

Invalidation. That's what all this resistance boils down to. Invalidation. And we can't do much about it beyond attempting to advocate for ourselves in the face of it. It feels like a great big plate of nothing, when one's got no allies to back them up on it.

It's a good thing that the rest of the New Guard has a lot of fight in it. We shouldn't have to do this alone.

Current Mood: tired
Current Music: C418 - Dry Hands

Another week, survived.

I mean, I survived it with two patellar dislocations, both of the same knee, one of which I wasn't even awake for the start of...

I just have to keep going. Things are getting better. Things are getting better. Things are--

-Pfff noise-

You know, after a while this starts to feel almost delusional. I mean, a few things have gotten better in the last couple of weeks--there is a big thing going on that I can't discuss right off because I KNOW when I do that, I end up jinxing it. So I'm not going to voice too much of it right off. If I don't jinx it, things will be a lot, lot, lot better.

The boss is still an asshole, but...whoo boy. I didn't mention earlier this week that I told him the fuck off. He changed a protocol and acted like things had always been that way when he decided to screech (yes, screech...he has...a voice) at me about it when I told him I was just following orders. I'm fuckin' done with that dude, man...just done.

Current Mood: beat UP

Walking 15k steps when you've knocked off a toenail.

I don't recommend it.

And I have **PHYSICAL THERAPY** tomorrow.

Well, I can test another game on the gaming rig tomorrow after it's all done.

If you have been paying attention, you might have noticed that I am more here than I have been in a long time. That's partly because I'm putting myself through what is almost a boot camp.

I mean, it's a self started boot camp, with only one ~~victim~~ participant, but it's a boot camp.

I've been working on a few things lately. One of them is getting a schedule drilled into me again. I'm supposed to stay on it a minimum of three days a week--three updates a week. I'm going to go for more than that if I can because the more that I write, the more that I can write. It's been about a week on this new schedule and I already am starting to feel like my hands are getting back into the swing of things.

I'm also working on getting a gaming channel started. I have a FB presence, an avatar specifically made for it...I even have an app on my phone that'll let me stream mobile games. And the offerings for mobile games are good indeed lately.

I finally have everything I need on the new rig, christened Sheba.

I HAVE A DIAGNOSIS FOR MY BACK AND LEG PAIN. Turns out? Sciatica. It would appear that we've been missing it for YEARS. Physical therapy starts next Friday. It was supposed to start today but there was a snafu with getting a ride.

-crack- -pop-

OK, my hands are getting sore, and I've managed 1.2k words. I should rest.

Current Mood: sore
Current Music: imagiro - Wool Gloves

We've spent the better part of the day with no water.

The weather has been absurd, with freezes wrecking the water main. It took until about nine in the evening before we had water again, and that water is under a boil order, meaning that...well, you're just ADVISED to boil it before you use it for anything.

Which is why I'm boiling water for the cats to drink.

The door is janky because of the cold, too: my key isn't working and the door just WON'T LATCH.

I mean, I count myself lucky that we have winter weather infrastructure, unlike some states. Just look at how badly things are going in Texas right now. It's a mess. People freezing to death in their houses and shit while the cities, full of empty skyscrapers, are getting plenty of electricity, water, and heat.

In a way, we're lucky up here. We're equipped for this, even if we weren't quite prepared.

Current Mood: IT'S FRIGGEN COLD MAN
Current Music: Bill Evans Trio - My Foolish Haert

OK but first off:

Hey, Wordpress, explain the following? Please?

A picture of the Wordpress App GUI from Windows 10, showing that the "New Post" command is located under the Window menu for some inexplicable reason.

WHY THE ABSOLUTE HELL is the New Post command hiding under 'Window?' That is the most counterintuitive thing that I have ever seen, and I have put up with lots of free apps that just approximate the thing that I need at times. This is official shit. Also, you need a dark mode.

Ok, now that that's out of my system...

___

I've had this computer for a little under a month now. It was a gift, and BOY do I love this thing. It's zippy, runs my favorite games at full crank with no lag, and has an app that lets it sync to my phone so I can use the apps on the computer, or text, or whatever. The only hang?

I, uh, skipped the free install of Win10 on my other rig because it couldn't run it well, so until now I've still been on Windows 7. So basically, I know fuckall what I'm doing. Every turn is learning something new.

For instance, the finger-number shortcuts on this touchpad. It's so much easier than stretching for an alt+tab--or an alt+shift+tab if I'm going the other way. It's a double blessing because my hands aren't used to keyboard work anymore, after freakin months of disuse. At one point, my hands would cramp up and go useless after only 300 words. That's not good for a writer.

Then there's my bad habit of having like 19 things shortcutted to the start bar. I mean, I'm TRYING, but I want to avoid the desktop chaos I had before. I mean, I had a widescreen monitor and almost every inch of space was SOMETHING on the desktop.

...come to think of it that's an even worse habit. Must break.

The sound on this thing is phenomenal, too. And if I need to cover myself, my Skullcandy headphones connect to it via bluetooth. No more wires! AND THE MIC WORKS. You know what that means? I can do gaming videos again.

...do I sound hyped? I might just be.

EDIT: No, you're not trippin;--I changed my blog's look for the first time in literally ever. It was time for a new look.

Current Mood: hyper
Current Music: Hoogway - Missing Earth

It's like 11 at night. I'm writing from my gaming rig, slightly stoned off ...a lot of things, but mostly cannabis.

There's been nothing much new to report except that my doctor got me on a new pain medication, one that seems to be working far better than the last one did.

Darling Prince, the cat, sits at my side with his head on my elbow. What an awkward place to be, kitten.

I'm setting up this machine without really knowing what I'm doing, since I'm coming from Win7. But I'm slowly getting it.

There's a few things to do right away that I can think of:

find the damn silver,
find the damn towels, and
get Pestilence Couch mk. 2 outta here.

Oh, didn't I mention? The bugs followed me. They colonized the couch I was sleeping on. And as it turns out, I'm allergic. After a week or so of sleeping elsewhere, the whistle I had developed in my throat that I thought was something else? It cleared up. I could breathe.

You want to hear something disturbing? That 'throat-closey' whistle I'd developed? I was getting that while taking heroic doses of Zyrtec.

I do not wanna think about what could happen to me if this gets worse.

Whewf...I got stories. So many stories. And if I was more awake I'd tell more of them. But my point is, I still have stories. I still have a life.

I don't have to stop writing.

Even if last year kicked my ass, I don't have to quit.

I'll get back into it. I have to bring the joy back into my life.

And I'm going to start by telling my stories again.

Watch out, world.

Current Mood: calm
Current Music: Hamasaki - 3AM

You wanna hear something funny?

I came into this year with a plan.

Actually, I think we all did.

But...2020, as we all know, is a thing that happened.

All four Horsemen went on a road trip, and pretty much nobody got out of it unscathed. Myself, I’m fighting to get respect and a diagnosis for a mysterious ailment that’s leaving me with rashes in my arms and legs that creep into my joints and cause such pain and stiffness that they render me unable to type. And if I can’t type...I can’t write.

Fuck. My elbow hurts right now just being in the typing position right this minute. I never had elbow pain before this year, even allowing for the factory job as a, erm, factor. My fingers and thumbs will often (painlessly) dislocate and I’ll have to stop and relocate them (also painlessly). I’m tired of not having answers to this question, and I’m pretty sure my doctor’s tired of seeing me. He probably thinks I’m hunting for pills.

Well, I’m not. I’m tired of pills. I take enough pills. My liver is so tired of pills it’s starting to get physically fucked up. In fact, I could do with fewer pills.

I’m having a harder time following schedules, and that’s messing me up because I used to be great at that. It was a point of pride with me, and now that it isn’t working I feel like a damn failure. I have to figure something out.

This is the first year where I barely wrote. I was too sick. Too tired. I just...couldn’t.

This cannot keep up.

I’m not gonna let it.

Current Mood: anxious

The Dragon's Bio

railenthe

Your Friendly Neighborhood Onion Knight's Deviations

January 2025

S	M	T	W	T	F	S
			1	2	3	4
5	6	7	8	9	10	11
12	13	14	15	16	17	18
19	20	21	22	23	24	25
26	27	28	29	30	31

Syndicate

Things ze rants about the most

100 things - 40 uses
apartment - 52 uses
bored - 13 uses
bus stop updates - 21 uses
computer - 26 uses
cooking - 20 uses
current events - 13 uses
dissidia - 60 uses
duodecim - 39 uses
fail - 14 uses
fic - 20 uses
final fantasy - 56 uses
food - 47 uses
funny crap - 34 uses
game - 11 uses
games - 30 uses
gaming - 59 uses
geek - 61 uses
getting my own mind back - 25 uses
health - 45 uses
in transit - 13 uses
lol - 77 uses
meme - 40 uses
mini!rant - 11 uses
money - 19 uses
music - 22 uses
my so-called life - 344 uses
nanowrimo - 33 uses
omg lots of crap - 18 uses
omgwtfbbq - 59 uses
omgyay - 29 uses
original - 23 uses
original fiction - 13 uses
picpost - 12 uses
rai gets pwned - 62 uses
rai gets pwned again - 19 uses
rai got pwned - 16 uses
rai got pwned literally - 17 uses
ramble - 162 uses
rambling - 33 uses
rant - 268 uses
sick day - 73 uses
update - 168 uses
via ljapp - 39 uses
weather - 13 uses
work - 51 uses
work sucks - 23 uses
writer's block - 33 uses
writing - 96 uses
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Random Chaos

For When Vaguely Organized Shenanigans Just Don't Cut It

Entries tagged with ramble

Holy shit. My teeth.

Something is happening...

Brief update because I'm on doctor office wifi and waiting for a Lyft which sucks

Do not catch pneumonia y'all

Good Night, Darling Prince 😿

Waiting, waiting...

Feeling better!

BELATED MERRY CHRISTMAS

SUCCESS?

settles into place

I'M FREE I'M FREE

MURIKA DAY...ain't something I'm celebrating this year.

Home Setbacks, Hearth Setbacks...and a LOT of Acespec discourse...

Another week in the can.

Bad idea:

BOOT CAMP FOR RAI

Brr 2: Electric Boogaloo

I'm gonna ramble about my life for a bit, OK?

THE OBLIGATORY 'I'M NOT DEAD' POST

Fuck off, 2020