Photos / Tales of My Travels / Wolf Pack Life

I was supposed to be travelling today

But I slept until 3pm, so that did not happen. (Too late to catch a ferry and actually make it home today.)

I don’t have much to write about today, and I’m very tired with packing up the car. So here’s another picture of my dog, being cute. (He’s upset, because he knows I’m leaving, so he’s curling up on my bed and looking cute in an effort to make me stay.)

Big bed wolf!
Behold, the big bed wolf!

dispatches from the loony bin / Tales of My Travels

Amoeba Cat and the Ogre go on a road trip (and see some kittens; also — Reading Rainbow)

[content warning: mention of disordered eating and fatphobia] This past weekend was the BC Day long weekend (I believe the first Monday in August is the long weekend across Canada, with Province-specific holidays; I know it was Alberta Heritage Day as well as BC Day, f’ex), so I got to spend four days at the Ogre’s house instead of just 3. (We’re currently searching for a place to move in to together, but in the meantime it’s week-at-my-house, weekend-at-his.) His mom had to head down to Washington this weekend to visit a friend. She asked us to come with

dispatches from the loony bin / Musings / Tales of My Travels

The Saga of the Move: Part 4, or “The Pre/sequels We All Drank Enough to Forget”

(Parts One, Two, and Three.) The worst of this move is over, thankfully. Moving out of a place is a lot harder than moving into. (Also I think there could be a sexual innuendo in that sentence, but I’m too tired to make it work. Feel free to give it a try in the comments.) As soon as I got off the ferry I drove to Pirates and Fairies on Lake Sasamat. I arrived just as the sun was setting, which was around 8 p.m. I’d missed three meals out of eight of the weekend, as well as my

dispatches from the loony bin / Musings / Tales of My Travels

The Saga of the Move: Part 3, or “Return of the Clusterfuck”

(Read Part 1 and Part 2.) The apartment in Coquitlam needed to be ready for me to move into. This meant there needed to be space for my stuff, first of all, and that my grandparents’ stuff needed to be moved out. That is, we needed to move out what we could of my grandparents’ stuff — part of the reason I had to get rid of my bed is that we couldn’t get rid of the two singles in their old bedroom (it’s like an episode of I Love Lucy every night, except instead of my husband in

dispatches from the loony bin / Musings / Tales of My Travels

The Saga of the Move: Part 2, or “The Stuff I Own Strikes Back”

(Read Part 1 here.) We now had more problems than we’d started out the day with: not only did we no longer have the use of TG’s truck to get rid of some of the big stuff, including the mattress and box spring, but now we had to work on getting the truck to Courtenay Car Centre and getting it fixed. We worked on the second problem first. Mom arranged for her and TG to wait by the truck for BCAA to tow it to the car place (this is two days later). She would then come down to

dispatches from the loony bin / Musings / Tales of My Travels

The Saga of the Move: Part 1, or “A New Home”

Some of you may know that I moved recently. I talked about it a bit before my blogging, social media, and Youtube hiatus — not a planned hiatus, by the way, I just got so bogged down with the realities of moving and other work (like finishing the proofing of Bellica‘s third edition) that I literally had no time to write or video myself doing stupid shit. All of my moves have been difficult, but this one seemed harder than most of them. Probably because it was just me and my mom doing most of the heavy lifting, and

Musings / Tales of My Travels

In which I don’t complain about Powell River overmuch

Today I drove from Nanaimo to Comox, and from there I took a ferry to Powell River. This was quite a feat for me, being the longest piece of driving I’ve done since before my spinal injury. It was painful, but not too terrible, and some stretching and walking made my back feel…well, less cramped, if not awesome. Why am I visiting the Hellmouth this small little town, you ask? To visit my mom. And the dog, who was so excited to see me I’m newly bruised in places I didn’t know I could bruise. To say Tyee is

Tales of My Travels

Statue of Liberty vs. Tea Party: no contest

Saturday night we spent in Salem, Oregon at my friend Indigo’s place. Her house is HUGE and with rent so reasonable I half considered picking up and moving there like, yesterday. (There being Salem, not necessarily her house.) Sunday morning afternoon we headed north again and stopped in Portland for a visit shopping trip, as mentioned before. Leaving Portland was interesting, as they apparently don’t believe in signs. Or bathrooms. We decided that a 2 hour movie could be made –called Road Trip 4: Escape From Portland — about some tourists trapped in endless freeway loops and one way

Musings / Publishing / Tales of My Travels

Oregon is a dangerous place for us — and I’m not talking about dysentery

Oregon has no state tax. This is like a stranger in a van offering candy to us 14%-tax-beleaguered British Columbians: dangerous, but oh so tempting. Our trip to Seattle got delayed a bit when we decided to stop in Portland. Mom bought shoes (so what else is new?), we both got books, I picked up a pre-loved copy of Destroy All Humans, and then we may have wandered into the Apple store and I may be writing this blog entry on an iPad. Wait! Before you write me off as just another spoiled white kid, let me elaborate. The