Underneath my yellow skin

Tag Archives: friendship

Looking for ways to make my life better

Posted on by • 0 Comments

I was talking in yesterday’s post about my writing. I would dearly love to be able to write fiction again, but it’s a struggle. The words still come fairly easily, but they are not catching fire like they used to. I have mentioned before how if my writing is going well, then there’s a sparkle to the words. A lightness that I can tangibly feel–and see. when it’s not going well, the words are flat and lifeless. Sometimes, I can find ways to spice it up, but oftentimes, I just have to trash it and start over.

I don’t know what to do with my writing, honestly. I know what I want to write. I know what I feel compelled to write. These are not the same thing, though I might be able to meld the two together.

I have to say that it’s time to sort my family shit out. It’s a bit crude to point out that my parents are in the last stage of their life/lives, but it’s true. And it’s wrought/fraught because of my father’s dementia. But, that’s not the only reason. There’s also the fact that my parents are broken people. They have been my whole life, and they’ve only gotten worse as the years have gone by.

I clearly remember having an argument with my mother about social justice issues. This was since my medical crisis. We’ve had plenty of arguments about all the ‘isms’ beforehand, but this was after, I think. My mother said she was a traditional/old-fashioned person and tried to justify it by saying she had been born in 1942.

This argument drives me batshit insane. It’s always given as an excuse for attitudes/beliefs that are frankly horrible. In addition, though, it’s the laziest, most contemptible excuse one can give. Yes, she was born over eighty years ago. But you know what? She was not cryogenically sealed for the ensuing eighty years, only to be defrosted in the last three years. She lived in America during the Civil Rights years. She saw the ERA movement in America, and got to witness marriage equality in both Taiwan and America. Well, she wasn’t here (America)when it happened, but she got to see it happen. She got to experience Taiwan elect its first female president (something America hasn’t managhed to do), and many more progressive things in her eighty years on this earth.


Continue Reading

The more things change

Posted on by • 0 Comments

The more things change, the more they really stay the same. Ian is here and it’s as if there has been no time between the last time I flew out to see him (spring of 2019) and now. The last time he was here was probably the summer before that. So, four years.

Here’s how it goes. He sits on the black recliner that is on the left in the room (which is from my vantage point of my couch). He is on his Steam Deck (which is new) while wearing sweats. I’m on the couch in my booty shorts (new) and a t-shirt, looking at my laptop. Shadow is in his bed in the corner of the room, taking his tenth nap of the day. I have one ear bud in to listen to a YouTube video so I won’t disturb him. We both do our own thing, but then one of us will say something, and we’re off to the races. Right now, he’s playing a game while I’m typing away. This is how we spent many hours.

Earlier, we actually went out and did things. Went to a vape shop (for him), the T-Mobile store (also for him), and then Target (for both of us). It’s true that you can’t walk out of Target having spent less than a hundred bucks. Even if you go in to buy one item, something else will catch your eye. You WILL buy rubber plates, tumblers, and bowls on steep sale. Or is that just me?

But we just slipped into our easy way of interacting that we’ve always had. When we got to Target, I made him push around the cart because that’s one performative gender role construct that I have no problem exploiting. I don’t like pushing around carts, so if he’s fine with it, great.

In general, that’s how I feel about chores. If there’s one that someone doesn’t mind doing, then they can do that. Like I hate the thought of doing laundry, but I don’t actually hate doing it. I used to not mind doing dishes. I don’t like doing them now, but if someone cooks for me, I most definitely will do the dishes.

On the other hand, I hate vacuuming. So much. It’s probably my least-favorite chore of the daily ones. That’s not true. Cleaning the toilet is the worst. And the fridge. But vacuuming is up there. I also don’t like tidying up in general. I’m a slob, and it’s my shame, honestly. I can’t seem to make myself clean, no matter how much I exhort myself. I know it’s a sign of ADHD, which I have suspected I have. It’s not something that I’ve ever tested for, but I have the suspicion that I have a mild form of it. I have the hyper-focus thing, daydreaming, and procrastination. I know that the inability to make yourself do things, i.e., considering yourself lazy, is a hallmark of ADHD. I know that I should probably get tested, but I…just don’t have the energy right now.

It’s been almost a year since I died. sitting with Ian makes me feel like nothing has changed, but everything has. But nothing really has. But everything has. It’s a strange feeling.


Continue Reading

Night in the Woods, part three: Putting it all together

Posted on by • 0 Comments
free your mind, mallard.
Mallard! What have they done to you?

Hello. Welcome to the third and hopefully the last post on Night in the Woods. Not because I’m tired of talking about it because I am most emphatically not, but because I know I sound like I’m obsessed–which, to be fair, I am. Anyhoo, here’s part two. OK. Let’s get down to brass tacks and talk about the third playthrough. Needless to say, there are going to be spoilers, and while I’ll try to note the more egregious ones, just be forewarned that I can’t talk about my third playthrough without revealing some spoilers in general.

After I finished the second playthrough, I immediately started the third. I was in a groove, and I knew there was still things I hadn’t discovered. Also, there are things I saw at the end of my second playthrough (while watching a streamer play), and I didn’t have enough days to do the whole quest. The fact that this quest exists at all is a marvel. As I was walking on the wires the second playthrough, I found a window I could open. I did that, and I went inside. There was a big float duck named Mallard bolted down, and I found a hole inside him. In the hole were two rats. Mae notes that they look hungry, and I decided I needed to find them cheese. I couldn’t find any cheese and it was only when

*SPOILERS*

I watched BaerTaffy steal the pretzel from the pretzel/pierogi vendor in the underground tunnel that I knew what I had to do, and I felt like a complete idiot. I knew it was there, and I knew the paw icon popped up when I passed by the pretzels, and Mae was chastised by the vendor for stealing before. I should have put together the whole thing, but I didn’t. I stole a pretzel and brought it back up to my babies. Unfortunately, I did not have enough days to finish it, so I made sure to do it during the third playthrough as soon as I could–which is the first day, I think.

I fed them faithfully every day and each day there was one more, and then after four days (I think), they were gone. They were free. The coolest thing is once they left, I saw them all around the city. They weren’t there before, which is a neat little touch. also, in the same place as Mallard, there was a door to the bottom right that would not open throughout my entire first and second playthrough. It’s a door that you could easily miss, and even if you found it, you probably wouldn’t try to open it more than a few times. That’s the brilliance of this game, but also the frustrating thing. You need to check everything every day, and while the payoff is so damn fulfilling when it happens, it’s few and far between.  Continue Reading