Entries by tag: photos

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Lying in morning sun, reading aloud to the other mammals.
If I had a million bucks i’d spend my morning the same way. (via Instagram ift.tt/1FqODV1)
That Instagram shot was a couple of days ago, but it seemed like a good photo for this post, because i feel a LOT better. We went from this (tl;dr: in spite of good credit/rental behavior/reliable employment, no suitable domicile would take my weirdo family or our pets and i was preparing to live in my car) to this:
  • I probably have a safe place to stay with both dogs + one cat. I am embarrassed to admit this, but i am superstitious sometimes, so i don’t want to talk about it any more until i actually am moved in. I’m sorry, because i know some of you are really worried about me, but i’m not willing to take on more stress right now, even unscientific phantom stress. I promise (you know what’s coming…)
    art: Last panel of Bill Watterson"s October 25, 1986 "Calvin & Hobbs" strip
  • The cat who won’t enjoy this mystery place much is going to live with a friend for a bit. She lives alone and her beloved cat passed away last summer, so he’ll get lots of cuddling and an entire apartment as the only pet.
  • My partner and i secured a fairly big storage unit so when we have a real home again, we won’t have to replace all of our belongings (or toss out the irreplaceable ones, like photos)
  • S.E.E.D., No Keys, and a couple of generous donations have left me able to take care of basic moving costs (right now, these include: said storage unit, transportation of remaining must-have items, pro-rated first month for move-in, deposit)
  • I think there might be enough left over to fix my bicycle or start a fund to buy a new one (it’s a ten mile ride to work, and in its current state, my bike won’t last long under that kind of heavy use).
  • I rode the ten miles there and another ten back yesterday as a test, and it turns out i can do it without even getting sore. That was unexpected and welcome news!Also, it’s a gorgeous ride–i really enjoyed it at least in good weather. Check this out, and try to imagine it’s not a crappy phone pic and that you can see the colors of the snow-laden dormant volcano and the cherry blossoms along the road:
    photo: Mt. Baker + cherry trees along the highway
I’m not excited about two+ hours of commute for work, living so far away from one of my partners, even partially splitting up my pet family, or being a small queer in an undersized hillbilly farm town (again! f*$#!!), but i’m still immensely grateful to the friends who are offering this refuge. One of them is a fellow comic artist, so we can draw together :3 And there is some sun peeking out of the clouds on long-term housing plans as well, though i’m going to be even more superstitious about sharing those.
Yeah, you guessed it…
art: Last panel of Bill Watterson"s October 25, 1986 "Calvin & Hobbs" strip
So even though i am still preparing to live in my car because after the run of crap i just endured, i don’t trust anything right now, i’m fairly hopeful that i won’t have to. Pets are all safe, important stuff is safe, and O Happiest of Days, No Keys just updated! I’ve been working on the wallpapers i promised in my Patreon–they should be up soon (i’m pretty busy packing, so hopefully y’all are okay waiting a wee bit!).
Thanks again to everyone who helped out. This is the scariest, most stressful thing that has happened to me in my entire life so far, and it really proved to me that i have surrounded myself with good fabulous amazing people. ♥

Originally published at Calamity Cove. You can comment here or there.


This is what I see every time I come home, even if #Hanzo and #Briar couldn’t possibly know wh
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via Instagram ift.tt/1FRG7BGvia Flickr http://flic.kr/p/r2iz3v</p>

Originally published at Calamity Cove. You can comment here or there.


Are y’all messing with me. Because seriously.
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I am so busy i shouldn’t even be writing this, but i can’t not tell you what just happened. I CANNOT KEEP THIS TO MYSELF.

I stayed home from retail-work so i could build special cat furniture to keep one of them from peeing on the bathroom floor right next to the litter box, like a total asshole. She refuses to share. Then i spent hours sweating as i moved/organized boxes in the garage because we have new roommates a’comin’ and they might need some space up there. Then i had an intense prep session with my co-presenter for our cats in coffee workshop on Tuesday, which lasted just under five hours. I was about to start working on stuff for the next issue of Nightmare (woo!) when, i shit you not, the ceiling began to leak a mysterious, dark brown fluid that smells like delicious smoked sausages.

Let’s go over that one more time, folks.

The ceiling began to leak a mysterious, dark brown fluid that smells like delicious smoked sausages.

photo: ystery liquid leaking from our ceiling

I DON’T EVEN.

art: Last panel of Bill Watterson&quot;s October 25, 1986 &quot;Calvin & Hobbs&quot; strip

Originally published at Calamity Cove. You can comment here or there.


Leo making faces. Well, face.
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photo: our bearded dragon, Leo, in the Christmas treeWe thought Leo might like to climb around in the Christmas tree after we divested it of ornaments and lights. Turns out he likes to just sit wherever we put him and never move, forever. Sometimes i think he might qualify as a plant.

But then he does things like zoom around the room looking for crickets we might have just accidentally poured all over the floor, because that’s how low his opinion is of our housekeeping abilities.

photo: our pit bull Hanzo being jealous that our pet lizard Leo is on my lap, not his.Hanzo watched Leo racing about. (And by “racing,” i mean, “scrabbling in place like a cartoon because little spiny claws are crap traction on polished wood.”) Hanzo clearly wants the spiny little dog with a skin condition to like him, but he’s not really sure how to make it happen.

Originally published at Calamity Cove. You can comment here or there.


Christmas in pictures, tweets, & tumbls
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photo: my mom&quot;s yearly sacrifice to the grandpuppies.

This is actually pre-mortem photography. It will not be an open casket funeral.

My mom’s yearly, hand-sewn sacrifice to the voracious grandpuppies was popular for the entire ten minutes that it lasted. The cloth guts on the floor were too graphic; i simply cannot show you the carnage.

photo: our holiday meal and our tree

You can’t tell in the photo, but the tree has orange-and-purple Halloween lights.

Keffy visited and quickly became the unofficial pet photographer:

 

photo: Leo, by Keffy

Honestly, December hasn’t been a good month for me, and Christmas wasn’t perfect either, but i still feel like we’re ending the year well.

We’re in a new spacious house, with a wonderful imported roommate and her hilarious, lovable cat. Even if i’m poorer than i was a few years ago, i still love each of my three jobs. I’ve been with the same indescribably splendid man for almost fourteen years; we know and love each other more every day. I’m growing a secondary relationship with a woman who constantly surprises me in all the best ways. As a bonus, i get to see her boyfriend often–there’s a chosen brother i never want to lose. The concept of chosen family has never meant as much to me as it has this year. Thank you, 2014.

Originally published at Calamity Cove. You can comment here or there.


I didn’t just try, i’m still trying
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photo: me smiling and being embarrassed

I’m learning to be better about accepting less challenges at a time, but i’m also learning that overestimating myself feels better than underestimating myself. I cannot possibly meet all the goals i set, but i would rather have them and fail than not try.

Failure doesn’t bother me; it’s a part of life, like sleeping, eating, shitting, and eventually dying. I can be hard on myself when i don’t expect it, when i fail at something in which i expected to succeed, but it’s not a mortal psychological wound, just a disappointment.

The jaw-droppingly vile historical excuse for Thanksgiving doesn’t work for me, but the sentiment of counting your blessings is powerful. This year i’m finding that i’m also thankful for what i don’t have, for all the things i tried to attain and didn’t grasp, and where those experiences took me. I’m even thankful for the things i thought i wanted and it turned out to be like expecting a juicy apple when you bite into wax fruit.

I’m me because of those things, and i’m thankful that i’m me.

Originally published at Calamity Cove. You can comment here or there.


This is how i feel today
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plunderpuss with cartoon heart eyes
This is my challenge: Go forth and do something you haven’t done before, something that makes you also feel like this.

Originally published at Calamity Cove. You can comment here or there.


Clown rabies
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photo: closeup of sprinkles all over my lips

Originally published at Calamity Cove. You can comment here or there.


Pretending to be ghosts
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photo: some graves at the edge of the cemetery

The other night, Briar and i took a trip to Bayview Cemetery. She was respectful and did not pee on any graves; i was respectful and didn’t climb on them, not even the really cool tall ones with good handholds.

photo: me and my pit bull briar posing under a streetlamp

I actually feel a little guilty for going in when it’s closed, but we all evaluate rules and decide which ones we’re willing to break.  I’ll break the rules because for me, the cemetery during the day isn’t a pleasant experience, but i still think i should get to visit it just like anyone else.

photo: moon behind clouds over top of building
It’s worth inconveniencing a rent-a-cop because while I’m walking on top of thousands of sleeping skeletons, i can feel my own skeleton inside my skin. I feel like my flesh is made of concepts, like everyone’s is, something insubstantial and alien in silent moonlight. I don’t feel that way at any other time, in any other place.

photo: moon behind clouds and streetlamps below
We were lucky enough to visit under a werewolf-movie sky–the clouds would cover the moon and it would be dark, and then suddenly, it would pour silver moonlight on everything for awhile before dimming with clouds again. My camera isn’t great, as i’m sure i’ve mentioned, but it took some interesting photos of our walk.

photo: Whatcom Creek in one of the less touristy stretches of the path

I always think i’m going to find a body in Whatcom Creek. I don’t know why–the expectation hovers even when i didn’t just spend over two hours walking amongst fields of the dead. It has the kind of overgrown look that strikes me as a more realistic hiding place for a half-decomposed corpse than the pebbled beaches they always use in crime shows.

(Thanks again Maeg, for driving us up there. I appreciate that you’re willing to put my four-legged flea festival in your Maegenmobile. )

Originally published at Calamity Cove. You can comment here or there.


Landsharks and needlekittens
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photo: Leo the bearded lizard basking on the back of the couch

When i read submissions on warm days, he starts out on my shoulder, then mosies on up the back of the couch to snooze in the sun.

Briar usually stretches out in that exact place during the day, but she very politely chose the other couch while Leo was up there basking. For the whole week+ that he’s lived here, when Briar tried to sniff him, i held her back and said “gentle” in a warning tone. This worked with the guinea pigs; she’s now gentle enough with them that i can allow them to cuddle, or to let her herd them on the floor while i clean their cage.

The morning i took these photos, she finally appeared to understand that Leo is delicate, and while he was out, instead of trying to crowd him with her nose, she watched him from several feet away. As a reward, i let her sniff him while he was on my shoulder. She was SO CAREFUL, and kept looking at me like “Is this okay? Can i get closer?” It was supercute.

photo: Leo the bearded lizard, looking for collard greens to rain from above

I have learned that Leo will sometimes leave his food untouched in the dish, but if you pick up the same food and present it to him in the palm of your hand, he will chow it like a toddler with a birthday cake. He is a spoiled little sandking! We’ve also gotten into the habit of putting the crickets and meal worms in our hands, but that’s mostly because 1) it helps prevent their escape into the recesses of his habitat and 2) it feels so cool when his little sticky tongue scoops ‘em up! :D

Originally published at Calamity Cove. You can comment here or there.


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