Wednesday, January 28, 2026

You two fill my holes… no. wait.

So, let’s talk Heated Rivalry because I cannot get it out of my head.

I have been so good about not watching the show on repeat because whenever I have watched it, it gets my full attention. Kind of hard to put it on in the background and do stuff… I’m also kind of annoyed with it. I found my original Drarry plot / sketch notebook and it’s like Tierney and Reid went through it page by page. There are just too many hockey tropes that writers - me included - lean on, but they did it better. Yeah. I’ve been fighting with the Drarry hockey disaster for years so now I’m on draft three. I’m trying to get away from the tropes, yet still fit in the framework that people find familiar.

Honestly, as annoying as it is to start fresh, the writing is better this time around. Or, at least, I like it better.

I finished all the books and I’m also very annoyed at the people on Facebook who are asking stupid questions about things that happen in the books, but say that they refuse to read them. OR they only read the two books that center on Hollanov, and miss the subtle things woven throughout the six books. Like Ilya colllecting gay people… It’s this whole thing that you don’t really catch on to, but it’s there. REALLY subtle and nicely done.

I’m also annoyed by the Skip haters who, well, skip their episode because they ‘don’t like it’. My siblings in Christ, if it wasn’t for Skip, WE WOULD NEVER GO TO THE COTTAGE. I think the show did the book dirty because the relationship was weird and angsty and kind of beautiful in it’s own way. I have to say that during every reheat I yell “SKIPPY” every time I see them on screen, I like them that much.

The cats are starting to worry about my mental health.

They don’t even know the amount of crazy I can bring to the party.

I could go on, but let’s talk about the title of this entry. Which, oddly enough, has nothing to do with the two hockey players.

I’ve been in a weird place lately. Not quite depressed, not quite manic, but definitely not normal. I’d say I’m cycling but it doesn’t feel like that, either. I’m stuck in this weird off-center bipolar limbo. Even my shrink picked up on it when we met this week. I don’t know. It is what it is and nothing is fixing it. I’m just going to ride it out and hope I come out the other side soon. I thought I’ve experienced everything the bipolar could possibly throw at me, but this is new. And I don’t like it.

This weird little place my brain is residing in led to me to texting Mr. First Guy and telling him I wish we were watching the BOS-MTL game together. We’re both huge Bruins fans and our favourite player is Andy Moog, a goalie. He shares a birthday with Moog and I share a birthday with Bobby Orr, so it’s like we were meant to be. We have, however, in the years since high school become friends. Good friends. Besties. It’s not outside the realm of possibility for us to go to a game together, or even watch a game on TV. More importantly, it’s a completely valid emotional response to watching the biggest rivalry in hockey. (Which, OK. Fine. The rivalry in Heated Rivalry is also BOS-MTL, which lead a bunch of fangirls to watch that game. Whatever. It’s weird, but, you do you, boo.)

During this conversation, I brought up Mr. FNFTF and said how the two of them have really helped me survive through the years. Like they filled two holes in me. Which, thankfully, didn’t go anywhere further than ‘shared trauma’ being the glue keeping them in my life. They were both around when my mother died and they were there when my dad died, too. I know my dad’s death affected Mr. FNFTF because they used to hang out without me. Which is weird, but gives me the warm fuzzies. I’m just fortunate that I still have people around from that time period because I don’t have a lot of people left who were there. A lot of people only saw the fallout from my mother’s death or they saw me hit rock bottom after my dad died. The people that came in and out of my life in the 10 years between just don’t get me. Neither do the ones that came in after my dad. I don’t know how to describe it. I mean, those are life changing events and they really form the basis of who I am. To not see the whole picture…

When Mr. First Time told me he loved me in that text conversation, I broke down and bawled. Ugly cried. It was so good to hear it - unprovoked and knowing exactly where it was coming from. I didn’t realise how alone I’d been feeling until he reminded me that I still have some worth to people. (Depression lies. Period.)

Everybody is fascinated by how easily I walked away from a relationship of 30 years, married for 26, but after all those years of riding the bipolar roller coaster with me, he still didn’t understand what I needed. And I wanted to move back to New England. Neither was something we could compromise on and I’d go so far as to state that keeping that relationship going was a compromise, but I wasn’t willing to continue doing it any more. We haven’t spoken in any way, shape, or form since his text asking how the drive to Maine was. I certainly didn’t go out of my way to text him on his birthday - I didn’t feel the need to. Unlike the other two, I don’t need him in my life and more importantly, I don’t want him there, either.

So. Yeah. It’s nice to be understood. It’s nice to be wanted. It’s nice to have, um, holes filled.

And on a completely random note, the breeder we got G-Man from has a new litter of puppies. I’ve wanted a dog, but I’ve been flip flopping over what breed to get. For $3,800 I can get an amazing German Shepherd. Good temperament, breed to be gorgeous, and smart as fuck. BUT that is a lot of cash I don’t really have unless I dig into my savings and my house really needs to have the vinyl siding replaced. Decisions, decisions. I think I’d rather spend the money on a dog, tbh. Not sure the cats will agree, though. The breeder hasn’t asked for a deposit, so I’m just going to wait and see if I make it to the reservation list or the wait list. I haven’t heard back.

Even more random, Fandom Running Club is doing it’s first Rumble of the year. I’m on a team (Razoom’s Back!) that’s fundraising for Razom for Ukraine. The race has three different groups with different caps (5K, 10K, 10 miles) to make it more competitive. My dumb ass has consistently been doing 10 miles since we started 16 days ago. I could drop to a lower level. I want to drop to a lower level, but I also want to win and doing 10 a day will keep us competitive. I mean, I can’t bitch about my teammates. We all have things going on and it’s easier to do lower miles. I’m not that busy. I can spend 4 hours on a treadmill, no problem. My feet don’t want me to - I have blisters EVERYWHERE. My toes are killing me and since 10 different blisters in that area wasn’t enough, they’ve moved onto my heel.  I don’t care. I can live with the pain. Ukrainians are dealing with a lot worse than blistered feet.

Even even more random, I have FINALLY moved into the kitchen. I ended up ripping out one of the lazy susans and finding some pull out drawers on clearance at Home Depot. The cabinets are much more functional now. Every thing I can’t fit is in the dining room. That was on my agenda to clean this weekend, but I tore the living room apart instead. I needed more light and I needed more space between the couch, pellet stove, and treadmill. The good news is that the living room is spotless and the kitchen is finally livable. I’ll get to the dining room soon. I do need the house as clean as possible ASAP. I’m tired of living like this. It just sucks that my time is so limited. (Also, the puppies will be ready to go home in March, so I have extra motivation.)

Speaking of things to do… I should probably get to my to-do list. I’m hopping on the treadmill for the Stupid Bowl if only because I want to see how Green Day and Bad Bunny comment on the current state of the union…. which only leaves me 5 hours to try to do eleventy gazillion things.

Sunday, March 02, 2025

I’ve never been so ashamed

I don’t even know where to start.

I’ve been profoundly depressed since the coup began and things are getting worse.

trump seems to think he can delete a whole bunch of people by forcing a gender binary on them. People are misgendering trans people on the daily and calling them by their dead names. Calling transwomen men.

It makes me sick to think that a Maine politician doxxed a trans teenager and became a maga darling, while the Governor is fighting for ALL of her citizens. mr. trump seems to think that his executive orders are the law. Gov. Mills was correct in saying that she follows FEDERAL LAW which is something that an executive order cannot override. But, you know, he doesn’t need to abide by the laws of this country because he’s the king or some shit. (btw, that article is unlocked if you care to read it.)

As someone who has struggled with being a cis female at various points in my life, this… is devastating to me.

However, I guess there’s a little bit of a silver lining for me? Everyone’s so concerned about ‘men’ playing women’s sports, they’re not paying attention to the women playing men’s sports. Dude, gender is not defined by what’s in between your legs. Gender is a societal framework that puts you in a pink box or a blue box. By reducing a transwoman to what equipment they were born with / gender assigned at birth, they’re completely missing the point. Most transwomen just want to be left alone to live their lives in the pink box, just like I want to be left alone to live my life in the blue one. (I guess mine is sort of purple since I’m a tomboy / butch?) It’s the CIS MEN who are the problem.

Just look at our felon-in-chief. He said that he liked to grab women by the pussies. I’d rather share a bathroom with a transwoman than that fine piece of work. At least that way, I know I’d be safe.

Remember man vs bear? I’d take my chances with a bear any. fucking. day.

For the record - I narrowly escaped being raped in high school by a member of the wrestling team. I was raped by a guy I thought was a friend in college. #metoo isn’t just some hashtag.

Do you know I carried pepper spray AND a personal alarm when I ran laps around a track at a public park last year? Even when it was crowded? I prefer treadmills for various reasons, but it was moving into the apartment that made me quit running. I just don’t feel safe. Maybe part of that is Florida - I was never this paranoid in New England. It’s hard to say, but I’ll find out soon.

So, yeah. I’m conflicted about that.

Add to that the whole putin’s bitch attacking Zelenskyy during a televised conference.

I. Have. FEELINGS.

I don’t have the words, however.

Yeah, the girl who writes non-stop, doesn’t have the fucking words to describe how shitty the current administration has made her feel in roughly a month.

I just keep putting one foot in front of the other and pretending I’m OK, when all I want to do is hide in my apartment and cry.

Speaking of - I HAVE RESERVED A MOVING TRUCK!  I leave this cesspool of a state in May.

I cannot fucking wait to be out of here - both the apartment and the state.

Saturday, July 08, 2023

Наша Батьківщина б’ється гордо

Sunday, March 05, 2023

FIVE FOR FUCKING FIVE

Favorite American Artist: Matt Nathanson
Concert: 10 February 2023, Fort Lauderdale
Ticket Acquired: ✅

Favourite Ukrainian Band: Океан Ельзи
Concert: 27 April 2023, Miami
Ticket Acquired: ✅

Second Favourite Ukrainian Band: Антитіла
Concert: 18 October 2023, Miami
Ticket Acquired: ✅

Third Favourite Ukrainian Band: Бумбокс
Concert: 8 March 2023, Miami
Ticket Acquired: ✅

New Love: KALUSH
Concert: 10 March 2023, Orlando
Ticket Acquired: ✅

If you’ve been around me for any length of time, you know how much live music means to me. I mean, fuck, I used to drive to Upstate NY as much as I could to see Black Mountain Symphony. There were countless trips to Connecticut for Instrument and All Crazy shows. That doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of what I jokingly called “Scott-the-Roadie: Live at UConn” - all the BiG MiSTAKE, Frogboy, and Spring Heeled Jack shows I used to attend with him. Then, there were the nights at The Sting, and the nights at Toad’s Place. A random concert in Maryland. The day I went to a gathering at Bird’s that turned into an impromptu concert only to leave and catch BMS in Providence. (That, my friends, was probably one of my more ridiculous weekends: I drove through four New England states in less than 24 hours.)

Thinking about it, I’ve probably spent more of my life at live shows than I have engaging in any of my other hobbies in my life to date.

Of course, I don’t have the luxury of getting in the car and driving to NY anymore. It breaks my heart to think of the ridiculous logistics nightmare leaving Florida has become. There’s a plane ticket, and a hotel, and a rental car… I hate shit like that. I just want to get in the car and go. The drive itself is as therapeutic as the live show. All planes, hotels, and rental cars do is stress me the fuck out.

There is one unexpected perk of being exiled to Florida - the massive Ukrainian community in Miami.

I haven’t been kidding when I’ve babbled on about how thrilled I am about the opportunity to see ALL of my favourite Ukrainian bands.

Granted, I hate the reason why they’re all on tour, but… at the same time…

I GET TO SEE ALL FOUR OF MY FAVOURITE UKRAINIAN BANDS THIS YEAR!!!!

I went on a deep dive in YouTubeLand to find live video of KALUSH and… expectations matched reality.

Seriously.

This video confirmed that I’ve been to too many shows.

When you can perfectly imagine a show just by listening to the recorded versions of songs, you know that shit needs to be a resume-level skill.

Sunday, January 22, 2023

Topping from the bottom

I’m always that person who takes charge of a group project when people are slacking… this time, I bulldozed a Captain.

In my defence, not a single person on the team was offering anything up, and I have charities that mean a shit-ton to me.

FRC is attempting a new format for racery - teams of five people randomly chosen, a fundraising component, and all the shenanigans we’ve grown to love.

I’m really looking forward to this one. The last few just haven’t been fun because people talk offline and make teams full of super cappers. They take off and are impossible to catch… but, with random people creating teams? We might actually have a chance to have fun this go ‘round.

So any way - I wanted to choose Cobblestone for our charity, but that didn’t work out. (Cobblestone hooked us up with with our trip to Lviv, sent us the most amazing tour guide ever, and now are helping support his family through donations. I donate as much as I can, when I can.) Unfortunately, Cobblestone isn’t a registered charity in Canada yet.

I asked if we could fundraise for Razom for Ukraine. This is a better known charity and absolutely massive. I’d rather donate to them, if I can’t directly donate to Ukrainians hurt by the lack of tourism.

Razom is the transliterated version of разом - the Ukrainian word for together. (It’s pronounced “rah-zom”)

The team ran with the word, brainstormed different ways to use razom in the team name, and we settled on razoomies, because, well, we’ll zoom.

Razombies was also thrown out there. I loved that one, too.

Our team colours were also chosen for us. The Ukrainian flag serving as inspiration.

I know it’s trendy right now to care about Ukraine, but - of course - this means so much to me, personally.

I’ve been crying on and off, I’ve been so touched by the interest.

I have bunch of hashtags chosen for the race itself and I’m so excited to use them.

If we’re friends on Facebook, you’re about to get sick of the relentless posts sending you to the racery fundraising link. And I’d apologise, but sorry, not sorry.

Together we zoom!