What's in the gallery?
We dissolve stuck and rewrite patterns. We apply radical playfulness to life (when we feel like it!), embarking on internal adventures (credo of Safety First). We have a fake band called Solved By Cake. We build invisible sanctuaries, invent words and worlds, breathe awe and wonder.
We are not impressed by monsters. Except when we are. We explore the connections between internal territories and surrounding environment to learn what marvelously supportive delicious space feels like, and how to take exquisite care of ourselves. We transform things.* We glow wild.**
* For example: Desire, fear, worry, pain-and-trauma, boundaries, that problematic word which rhymes with flaweductivity.
** Fair warning: Self-fluency has been known to lead to extremely subversive behavior, including treasuring yourself unconditionally, unapologetically taking up space, experiencing outrageously improbable levels of self-acceptance, and general rejoicing in aliveness.
What's in the gallery?
We dissolve stuck and rewrite patterns. We apply radical playfulness to life (when we feel like it!), embarking on internal adventures (credo of Safety First). We have a fake band called Solved By Cake. We build invisible sanctuaries, invent words and worlds, breathe awe and wonder.
We are not impressed by monsters. Except when we are. We explore the connections between internal territories and surrounding environment to learn what marvelously supportive delicious space feels like, and how to take exquisite care of ourselves. We transform things.* We glow wild.**
* For example: Desire, fear, worry, pain-and-trauma, boundaries, that problematic word which rhymes with flaweductivity.
** Fair warning: Self-fluency has been known to lead to extremely subversive behavior, including treasuring yourself unconditionally, unapologetically taking up space, experiencing outrageously improbable levels of self-acceptance, and general rejoicing in aliveness.
Item! Lowering the bar makes it easier to reach your drink.
A somewhat goofy mini-collection of stuff I’ve been reading, stuff I’ve been thinking about and oh, some completely random crap.
Basically the stuff that never gets mentioned here because I’m not the kind of person who can just make some teeny little point. Not into the whole brevity thing, as the Dude would say.
Actually, I’m under the strict compulsion to write ten pages about anything on my mind. So this is me. Practicing brevity.
Item! 2009 is practically over.
Which makes this the last Item — Item! — of 2009.
But my plan is to be around with unnecessary exclamation points and a duck on Wednesdays next year too. And to be here the rest of the time talking to monsters and giving biggification advice and stuff.
Also, the title today refers to my quote of the year (yes, I’m quoting myself), which will also have to become a post at some point.
Item! Post No. 47 in an ongoing almost-every-Wednesday series that continues to amuse me, and possibly other people but really mostly me.
Item! Havi’s Surprisingly Great Finds of the year.
So. Much. Great.
And no, I’m not including any bloggishness or related internettery in this list. Because there is too much and it’s impossible to remember which internet crush on whom started when.
But my biggest non-internet 2009 obsessions are, officially and as far as I can remember, which isn’t very:
- Mr. B the Gentleman Rhymer: re-connecting Hip-Hop to the Queen’s English and straight out of Surrey.
- Everything about Slings & Arrows — the Canadian television show that was three seasons of wonder. I am enthralled.
- Ever since discovering (I know — last week!) the Carolina Chocolate Drops, I can’t get enough of them.
- The best tradition in the entire world: Zombie Yule.
- Marianne Faithfull doing the Decembrists song The Crane Wife with Nick Cave.
Mr. B is @gentlemanrhymer on Twitter.
Item! Serious exclamation points!
So yes, I like to make fun of my self for how exclaim-ey I get on Wednesdays with all these Items. Item!
But here’s someone who works the exclamation point in a way that puts me to shame.
The blog is called Sodiapop and boy is it enthusiastic. It made me smile. So that’s a good thing.
The tagline is This Blog Is To Be Read Happily. And it appears to be written by a small doll. Really, what’s not to like?
“This is a big spider!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Ottawa is fun!!!!!! “
Found this by way of Andi (love Andi!) who is @annaline_39 on Twitter.
Item! One thing leads to another.
I was reading Sodiapop (see above) and it brought me to this.
Item! All things in moderation. Including moderating. Possibly.
Moderating comments: it’s just something that needs to happen. Because it’s your space and you’re trying to make it a safe experience for your right people.
Teresa Nielsen Hayden pretty much shares all of my opinions.
On the idea that people would try to “create a set of guidelines to shape online discussion and debate”:
“Uh-huh. And I’m busy constructing a bamboo-and-wicker water gate that will hereafter govern the flow of the Mississippi River. “
And:
“You can’t have a good online discussion without moderation. Every weblog out there that has good comment threads has a policy of moderating the discussion and kicking out the fuggheads.”
Agreed. I don’t moderate my own comments — I have people on the pirate crew who do that.
And when someone can’t play nice, I am willing to consciously engage if I don’t actually think they mean to be obnoxious. Or they’ll get deleted if it’s clear to all of us that they are.
But a policy? Or even a non-policy policy like the ones I have and described in the Blogging Therapy series? Absolutely.
She’ll even give you a certificate to tell off the “vexatious persons”. Awesome.
Got to this via our Caryn who also told me about Get Your Own Effing Blog, which totally made me laugh.
Teresa is @tnielsenhayden on Twitter. Caryn is @clr.
Item! Arachnophobia and other terrifying things
Loved this concise, simple, lovely post from Deanna about fear, creativity, vulnerability and spiders.
“What am I afraid of?
- I will write and no one will read
- I will write and everyone will read
- Everyone will read and think I suck
- Everyone will read and tell me I suck
- I will believe everyone”
She’s @DeannaLohnes on Twitter.
Item! I’m not the only person who makes up rituals, you know.
Eileen does it too, beautifully.
“One of my current favorites is lighting candles before we sit down to dinner every night.
It originally started because we didn’t have power in our dining room during a homebrewed electrical project. But now it’s just the thing we do before we start dinner.
Where we say this, now.
(Although come to think of it we still don’t have power in the dining room.)”
Did you hear that? “Where we say this, now.”
That is the grand summing up of ritual.
She’s @evalazza on Twitter.
Item! Oh, it hurts.
So true. This is Andrew’s sarcastic, wonderful list of how to make sure you fight at Christmas.
“Christmas is the perfect time to implement everything you’ve ever read about mindfulness, conflict resolution and being peaceful.”
Yes, I know Christmas is over (though I’m not sure that Zombie Yule is), but really this is all good advice all the time.
Also, thanks Casey for giving me this great idea about the “family aquarium tap” in the comments.
Andrew is @alightheart and Casey is @casey_cole on Twitter.
Item! Kelly’s 3-Years-In-Business Truthiness Address.
This is excellent.
“My past indicates I seem to be drawn to working with convicted felons, people in crisis, and puppets.”
You should read the whole thing.
She’s @copylicious on Twitter.
Item! Update from the land of the Peculiar & Hilarious Shivanauts!
The “peculiar and hilarious” thing comes from Melynda’s sweet bit about Butterfly Wishes.
Pearl wrote a lovely post called synapses, habits, soul.
And we had an awesome guest post on the Shiva Nata blog from Anna Barnett:
“Something is clearly happening after my practices, during shavasana. There’s the swirly, buzzy, crunchy-peanut-buttery sensation. The weirdly addictive mental fatigue. I love it.
The thing is, it’s hard for me to put up with it.”
Her post is called The Flailing. And you should read it.
That’s @AnnaBarnett and @pearlmattenson on Twitter.
Item! Comments! Here’s what I want this time:
- Things you’re thinking about.
- Something inappropriate to do for Silvester — ideally something that doesn’t involve people. Or seeing any. Because I’m not good at that.
My commitment.
I am committed to giving time and thought to the things that people say. Even though asking for what I want still feels awkward for me, I’m just going to remind myself that this is a thing I’m practicing.
That is all.
Happy reading.
And happy Blustery Windsday.* And productive releasing whatever is done for 2009. And joyful incoming 2010. See you tomorrow.
*Someone (the charming @claireofttat) asked about changing it to Balmy Windsday due to the inclement weather. I would much prefer Balmy myself but I’m not sure if I can wish you a happy one, since it is most certainly Blustery here in Portland (Snowpocolypse!).
So I’ll wish for some Balm to make the Blustery better.
Transition-ey stuff. Take 2.
So. I’m using the last week of 2009 to get some things in order. Well, at least I did yesterday.
There’s the casual “hey, this is me accounting for things”. And the “looking at the books” sort of accounting. And some “cheshbon nefesh” — which is literally soul accounting, but more of a thoughtful taking stock of what is and how you got there.
Anyway, related to all this, I’m listing a bunch of things that are on my mind in this symbolic time-of-transitioning.
Please keep in mind that if I don’t mention you as someone fabulous, it’s not because I don’t think you’re fabulous, it’s just that you aren’t on this particular list that’s going up. Not personal.
More things I’m okay with saying goodbye to.
The kind of waiting that doesn’t nourish me and doesn’t help anyone else — like when I know what needs to be done but don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.
“Okay, guys. We’re going to have to put our heads down and power through” a la Arrested Development.
Sometimes being the person who sometimes thinks she can say completely ridiculous things like that — to herself.
The part of me who so wants to give people I like the benefit of the doubt … that common sense and equity go flying out that hole I just punched in the wall.
Structures that don’t work. Systems that don’t love me.
More things I’m committed to bringing in more of.
Permission.
Intentional not-doing.
Creative and fun collaborative adventures combined with extra just-for-me time.
Pirates.
Relating to my inner introvert with a hell of a lot more respect than she has ever been given before.
Letting my dammit list call the shots.
Non-Emergency Vacation.
Some extremely wise things I have learned from other people this year.
“What got you here won’t get you there.”
No, not that one book that I didn’t really like.
But the concept.
Working with Hiro has been so completely eye-opening, and she has consistently pointed out the enormous variety of different ways in which I trip over this exact thing.
You know, the pattern of trying to use things that have worked for me in the past, and then wondering why it’s not working now.
It’s not working now because it can’t. It’s what got me here. Which is great. And now I need something else to help me move through the next bit.
This has taught me Useful Things about the value of being flexible: knowing what to drop when. And it’s been a good reminder of the importance of having all kinds of stuff in your toolbox.
Hiro is my shining star.
“Saying no can actually be an act of kindness — for me and my business”.
Oh, Charlie. I adore you for helping me make some peace with this one.
Here are some of my scribbled notes from the class he taught at my Kitchen Table program when we were spending three months working on our relationship with time.
Apologies if I have misquoted or mis-phrased any of Charlie’s bits of genius.
“When you say no, you’re reflecting the reality of the world.
Things are limited.
To do your things well requires committing to them: saying YES to the time and energy that you have for them.
Which means saying no to other things. It’s vital.
You can still allow yourself to feel sadness over what you have lost.
Saying no is like pruning roses. It helps them grow better and stronger. Really, the only way you can have beautiful roses is to say no. The pain of loss is still there, and the comfort is knowing you have done what is best for your roses.”
So helpful for me.
“You don’t want to show up at your desk and say ‘what am I doing today?'”.
Ha. Still working on this one too. Not very good at it yet. Possibly because I don’t have a desk.
Anyway. I got this from Michael Port and I can feel the truth of it.
Really ridiculously hard to practice though.
According to Michael, you want to show up at your desk (or your couch) knowing the following:
- What you’re working on.
- Why you’re working on it.
- When it’s going to be done.
Not sure if this is necessarily the exact formula for how I want to do things. Selma and I will probably end up altering the vocabulary to fit our wacky needs.
But I do know in my heart that the running around and putting out fires way of doing things is a classic example of what got me here and isn’t going to get me there.
And that bringing more mindfulness, more loving use of the word NO, and more positive constraints (another Michael-ism) is where I’m headed.
Another favorite word from 2009.
Mmmmmm.
Capacity.
I got this from Cairene.
This year was about learning to respect my capacity.
To recognize that it is not infinite. And that it doesn’t have to be. And that the relationship between non-cheesy self-care and conscious not-doing is a big deal.
What I want more of in 2010.
Water.
Being on ships.
Endless horizon.
Hot springs.
Looking at stars.
Spending time with the seasons.
Laughing.
Reading.
Learning more about what a strong foundation for all that looks like, sounds like, feels like.
Talking to my resistance and finding out what it needs.
Comment zen. Again.
Share away.
If you want to do any of these little contemplative exercise-things yourself, you’re more than welcome to.
Or if you want to reflect or not reflect or whatever, rock on.
We all have stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. We’re practicing. Which is why we do our best to not throw shoes.
Big love. And mad Itemizing tomorrow!
Transition-ey stuff. The first.
So. Selma and I are using the last week of 2009 to get some things in order.
There’s the casual “hey, this is me accounting for things”. And the “looking at the books” sort of accounting. And some “cheshbon nefesh” — which is literally soul accounting, but more of a thoughtful taking stock of what is and how you got there.
Anyway, related to all this, I’m listing a bunch of things that are on my mind in this symbolic time-of-transitioning.
And yeah, please keep in mind that if I don’t happen to mention you specifically as someone fabulous, it’s not that I don’t think you’re fabulous — totally not personal.
The phrase I wish had been spray-painted on my office wall this year.
Ugh. It’s so completely simple that I feel stupid bringing it up.
And yet every single thing in my life would have been better this year if I’d just had access to these nine words.
“Can I get a progress report on this please?”
So many times this year I let something slide when that wasn’t the thing to do.
All because I didn’t know how to ask for what I wanted without worrying that I’d come across as bitchy, angry, nagging, domineering, whatever.
And so I would wait for the right words to show up. And occasionally they did. But more often than not they didn’t. And then I would be left feeling even more frustrated, helpless and vulnerable.
This year I’m planning on using those words a lot. I’m also going to be considerably more cautious about lending money, bringing people into my business and making exceptions.
Actually, I kind of think I’m done lending money. We’ll see what happens.
Two businesses I’m betting on for 2010.
Rebecca Prien, the attorney you have been dreaming of your entire life.
Kind. Wise. Non-sleazy. Non-scary. Works with smart, goofy, creative types. Cares about you. A lot.
She has dogs who work for her! Kind of the way Selma works with me. Plus she had a Catholic Hindu Yogini Christmas Tree for Zombie Yule.
Basically she’s neat.
And she’s offering something that is so so so needed in this world.
Her site is called Counsel to Creativity.
And she blogs. About law-related stucknesses.
I see good things for her.
Heidi Fischbach’s Aardvark creams.
First of all, Heidi is amazing.
Second, the phrase “lotions and potions for mixed-up emotions” is brilliant.
Third, this stuff is crazy addictive.
Fourth, the idea of something you can put on your body that eases anxiety? Win.
One piece of hard-earned wisdom from 2009.
You can have a lot of love for someone and still not trust them.
Some things are more subtle and more complex than we would like them to be.
My favorite word from 2009.
Oh yes.
Sovereignty.
I got this from Hiro.
I described it here as: “Sovereignty, again, is the quality of owning your space. It’s feeling so safe being you, that you can’t be shaken from yourself.”
And here as “the quality of owning your space so completely and fully that you can’t be shaken from being you. You get to be the (pirate-ey or not) queen — or king — of your own fabulous kingdom. Or queendom. Or whatever.”
But yeah. That invisible crown that lets you know that you have the right to take up space in this world.
What I want more of in 2010.
Permission. Lots and lots of permission. The kind that I give to myself.
To sleep in. To play. To release guilt. To notice patterns without judging myself for having them.
To balance playtime with naptime, innovating with resting, making with breaking.
To let myself be silly. Out loud. Online. In every corner of my life.
Comment zen for today.
Share away.
If you want to do any of these little contemplative exercise-things yourself, you’re more than welcome to.
Or if you want to reflect or not reflect or whatever, rock on.
We all have stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. We’re practicing. Which is why we do our best to not throw shoes.
Big love.
Very Personal Ads #26: sorting out the scary
Personal ads! They’re … personal! Very.
So my itty bitty personal ads made me realize that it’s time to make a regular practice of trying to feel okay asking for stuff.
Even when the asking thing feels weird and conflicted.
Ever since I posted the first one asking my perfect house to find me, which united me with Hoppy House, I have been a fan of the madness that is personal ads.
And now it’s my Sunday ritual. Yay, ritual!
Let’s do this thing.
Thing 1: walking earlier in the day.
Here’s what I want:
My gentleman friend and I have been in the habit of taking a morning walk for years.
And over the past few months it’s become an afternoon walk.
This is understandable. I get my best writing done in the morning. And I’ve been brunching* three different programs simultaneously, which has been all kinds of work.
And and and.
So right now we have this thing where I work and keep working until my gentleman friend correctly assesses that my brain is turning to mush, and promptly hauls me out for a walk, after which my spirits improve considerably.
I need the morning walk. We have to go back to the morning walk. Not that this should negate an afternoon walk. Just that the morning needs a comeback. Desperately.
* A more entertaining word for “launching”, which I always found kind of gross. Borrowed this delightful turn of phrase instantly and unapologetically from Tara the Blonde Chicken.
Here’s how I want this to work:
Oh, it would be nice if I could get back to writing blog posts a day or so early, so as not to be frantically editing the morning of.
It would also be lovely to just remember that walking is like Dance of Shiva in that the act of doing it will put me back in flow and pretty much guarantee that the rest of the day will go more smoothly.
My gentleman friend could remind me of this. Selma could want to go for a walk.
And I can use the fabulous Deguiltified Chicken Board at my Kitchen Table program that totally exists for stuff like this.
My commitment.
To remember that what is good for my body is good for everything else in my life.
To value movement, breath, earth, a glimpse of sky, reconnecting with myself over … pretty much all the other stuff.
To ask for help. To give myself permission to take my duck for a walk. To trust that this is a good thing. To practice. To not be too hard on myself if it takes a while.
Thing 2: readiness + preparation time.
Here’s what I want:
Normally I try to use the transition from December to January to get all my finances for the past year in order.
This is because I dread dread dread tax-time and all the related headaches. So this is the one thing I actually manage (sometimes, at least) to do early. To get it the hell over with.
This year because of some especially disastrous choices, unfortunate decisions and general stalled-ness, this task is made especially problematic.
I managed to do a good chunk of Sorting Out The Scary over Zombie Yule. But I’d really like some more movement on this over the next week.
Here’s how I want to get this to work:
To remember that I have marvelous resources and to use them.
To talk with Jennifer (my lovely new bookkeeping angel). A lot.
To ask my gentleman friend for help when I need help.
My commitment.
I will give myself time.
I will give myself permission to cry as much as I want.
Basically, permission to feel annoyed, frustrated, anxious, busy, stressed out, etc.
And to keep reminding myself how good this will feel in April, knowing that I don’t have to do it then.
To do whatever delightfully wacky rituals I feel drawn to in order to ground my transition into the new year.
And I’ll do them both to cheer me up and to release some of my stuckified resistance around everything that’s going on right now.
Thing 3: Flowers.
Here’s what I want:
I have this screwed up thing where I think that everything I do for myself is extravagant and unnecessary.
Working on it.
In baby steps. That’s why this week it’s about the flowers.
Ways this could work:
I could decide to buy flowers for Hoppy House.
And then to pay attention to both a. my stuff as it comes up and b. the pleasure I take in things being pretty.
My commitment.
To notice. To breathe. To smell. To practice. To let things happen in small pieces, over time, in whatever progression is necessary for now.
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.
I asked for more love for my house. To spend more conscious time doing stuff that would help me feel like I belong at Hoppy House.
This went pretty well. I have been continuing Hiro‘s sweet morning ritual of visiting with every corner in the house.
Some ideas about what might help are showing up. And I am working on this belonging thing. Slowly, slowly.
My second wish was help with the scary pile and I am pleased to report that the scary pile is no longer a scary pile.
Somehow, some unplanned crazy fits of filing happened this week and for that I am forever grateful.
And I wanted to spend more time being a connector-mouse and bringing people and projects together. Haven’t done anything with that but I did have an extremely bizarre dream about that the night before last.
More about that when I’m ready. Also: wow. I was sure that I hadn’t made any movement on last week’s asks, but this is actually kind of reassuring.
Comments. Since I’m already asking …
I am adding to my practice of asking for stuff by being more specific about what I would like to receive in the comments. And that way, if you feel like leaving one (you totally don’t have to), you get to be part of this experiment too. 🙂
Here’s what I want (just leave them in the comments):
- Your own personal ads, small or large. Things you’ve asked for. Or are asking for. Or would like to ask for. Or updates on last time!
What I would rather not have:
- Theories about how stuff works.
- Shoulds. As in, “You should be doing it like this” or “That’s not the right way to ask for things — instead it should be like x, y and z”
- To be judged or psychoanalyzed.
My commitment.
I am committing to getting better at asking for things even when asking feels weird.
Thanks for doing this with me!
Friday Chicken #73: special zombie chicken
Because it’s Friday AGAIN. And because traditions are important. In which I cover the good stuff and the hard stuff in my week, trying for the non-preachy, non-annoying side of self-reflection.
And you get to join in if you feel like it.
See? I was going to call it a Christmas Chicken but that just sounds too much like something someone might eat.
And we don’t eat the chickens.*
If you missed the Zombie Yule thing, that was yesterday. And yes, it’s still fabulous.
* I think I can safely say that my business partner would not be into that, being a duck and all.
The hard stuff
Weird holiday energy.
It’s like the whole continent goes … off kilter, somehow.
And if you’re have big HSP (Highly Sensitive Person) issues like me**, it’s a lot of having to disentangle yourself from everyone else’s stuff.
** Personally, I prefer “delicate violet” or “sensitive goddamn flower” but what are you going to do.
Three. Entire. Days.
That’s how much time got spent on administrative stuff for my Kitchen Table program this week.
Because of systems problems. Because of a snag where certain established “here’s how we do things” bits turned out to be not as established as previously thought.
Spreadsheets and graphs and an enormous bottle of bourbon Advil.
And a lot of the time I was saying things like this:
“So what you’re saying is that if we can’t have more than 100 people this quarter (which is really 114 people if you include group leaders and admin spots), and we have 16 more spots that are definitely open but it might actually be 27 spots that are open because of this group of haven’t decided if they’re renewing … and if there are 39 people that I can still grant permission to apply, what do I do with the 10 remaining people who got permission to apply two weeks ago but haven’t applied yet? Wait, is that even right?”
And then wondering why I had a headache.
So yes. I learned a bunch of stuff to do differently for next year’s switchover, if there is one, but this was also annoying because I really, truly thought I had already learned all my tough, expensive, painful lessons this year.
An old hurt.
Back for a visit.
Overworked.
Big surprise there.
It was going to be a crazy busy week this week before the Kitchen Table crises started.
Big balagan. And no patience for it.
The good stuff
A few of those tough, expensive, painful lessons got resolved this week.
Lessons. Learned.
And whatever needed to get sorted did — or at least enough that I can move on and not take the crappy-ness into the new year with me.
Flannel sheets. Are the best.
Last week I decided that Hoppy House needed a present.
And bought these outrageously soft, warm flannel sheets in a deep, rich cranberry red.
Since, as we all know, I have big issues around anything that seems “extravagant” (which according to my stucknesses is everything) this involved a lot of talking to my stuff.
So it’s really a double win. One, I talked to my stuff and was able to feel okay bringing more comfort into my life. And then now I get to enjoy Extreme Snuggliness. It’s a sport. I mean, it should be a sport.
In related news, the hardest thing to do this week was get out of bed since it was so completely lovely being in it.
The Kitchen Table.
So much amazingness happens there. My favorite thing is people recognizing where they were a year ago as opposed to where they are now.
The recognition of what it’s like to go from a person who stews and agonizes over every decision and every new step to being the person who knows how to ask for things, how to resolve things, how to set boundaries and how to own their stuff.
It’s beautiful.
Also, reading the applications makes me laugh. The happy kind of laughing. Because they get it.
Also they stay stuff like this:
“Hoping to join in the crazy cake-fight-ful warm-fuzzy-fest that I expect is the Kitchen Table.”
Nice.
I started listening to music again.
I have hardly been able to listen to anything since finding out about my friend who is dead. There are maybe two albums that don’t make me fall apart.
This week I listened. To lots of things. I even bought some things on iTunes. And a bunch of CDs from the Carolina Chocolate Drops.
And I only cried a few times.
Presents! Cards! Gorgeousness.
Surprises in my mailbox from so many lovely people.
Thank you, all of you.
And … playing live at the meme beach house!
Yes, that’s a Stuism too.
My brother and I have this thing where we come up with ridiculous band names and then say in this really pretentious, knowing tone, “Oh, well, you know, it’s just one guy.”
So this week, I bring you:
Pig Neon Flashing Letters.
This one somehow emerged from the Kitchen Table chatroom so who knows what we were talking about.
But I can definitely assure you that it’s just one guy.
And … STUISMS of the week.
Stu is my paranoid McCarthy-ist voice-to-text software who delights in torturing me misunderstanding me. I can’t stand him.
The gems from this week. What an acetyl.
- last night in a sunny addition to Penthouse instead of “last night on earth zombie gingerbread house”
- Pennock homophobia instead of “enochlophobia“
- if you dismissed the zombie hosting instead of “if you missed the zombie yule thing”
- I was going to Gothic Christmas chicken instead of “I was going to call it a Christmas Chicken”
- hustle the panty comforts instead of “possibility of empty cupboards”
That’s it for me …
And yes yes yes, of course you can join in my Friday ritual right here in the comments bit if you feel like it.
Yeah? Anything hard and/or good happen in your week?
And, as always, have a glorrrrrrrrrrrrious weekend. And a happy week to come.
Happy Zombie Yule!