People like to call me broken. Although it’s not a word that I prefer to identify with, I suppose it could be argued that way. On the days when dragging my body around in a vertical position feels like hucking a truck...when all my hinges feel rusted and every step stabs a knife into *insert currently aggravated bodily location here*...do I feel like the broken doll who's been thrown on the trash heap? Yup. But do I think of myself as broken? Ehhh...I don't like to, and yet f

It might not happen this year. The big PTSD anniversary reaction. Somebody hacking me off by getting drunk and then getting behind the wheel, thus blasting open the dam for the next deluge. Then again, the season isn’t done so it could still be out there, lurking on the horizon. Waiting for me to put my guard down. *Jaws theme music* Meh. My guard is down. If it hits, it hits. Some years it doesn't. If it does later in the season and I’m inspired enough by the impact then I’l

My Lindsey Stirling Tribute series would not be complete without odes to her Christmas album, Warmer in the Winter. My musical Muse IS a bundle of Christmastime all year long, and it surely is warmer with her around. Of course, this year it is considerably warmer, as it is current 71 degrees F outside on Christmas Eve. Rather odd for these parts. Although the freeze-baby loves it and I plan on a nice walk, the little Minnesota girl in me longs for some snow to bring back my f

It's the Winter Solstice, so y'all know what that means around here. I keep wanting to write another 20 Years Ago Today post about how potent anniversary triggers can be, and how sneaky others can be. But I haven’t been in the mood. I've wanted to write about anything but 'Tis the Drunk Driving Season, which means it’s prolly a sneaky year. Last year was the biggie--the Big 2-0, and it hit hard on both the lead up and aftermath. This year…meh. Can’t be bothered. Which means i