"Hello all! consider this your update (and future me's update) log! Spanning from 8/5/2025 to 8/18/2025

After a malestrom of stimuli leaving me frayed and weary I was anxious and excited to be in a completely new environment. Cats everywhere and a lot of them are familiar faces. The weather's serenity fills me with a deep sense of presence and belonging. My roomates are really cool! It's been a nice change of pace from the isolatry solitude I pondered within in the suburbs.

Everything is so new that it's terrifying. It all feels too good to be true but even that impulse fills me with an urge for gratitude even further. To not reject what i've been given and to express my love by elevating it even higher. For day one it was mostly ambiently absorbing a new format for my days, and quickly nights. Getting a hang of the chores was pretty easy too even with as much work as it took to be ABLE to do them in the first place.

Watching Pantheon episode by night along with Scavenger's reign is a nice reoccuring communal pasttime, as is the wonderful book readings!

To go to the Grocery store, you wouldn't expect it to be so different. After all most stores from Texas to Washington are situated in american capitalism right? Well I can't deny that most if not all institutions standing on cement are deeply enmeshed in all the rife unspoken exploitation....But a worker-owned “bag-it-yourself” grocery experience without the overstimulation of your Walmarts... Ok there's a bit of overstimulation but thats mostly from the natural traffic of certain times of day when shoppers come in droves. There's an entire fucking Shasta machine for two quarters!!! I have to restress that this is fucking Employee owned and they dont have to fucking bag!! The only thing that'd make WinCo THE Grocery store is if they gave each of the employees a nice comfy chair to sit on in-between customer streaks... but I guess early-onset lowerback pain is in vogue for “Philanthropic capitalist” I tend to think back to Charlie Kelly's blind date in these times.

Full On.

Saturday was the Library!! Especially with the ease of walking in my skin and self getting to see various strands of beautiful Transpeople every which way, gives a greater impression that to assume is to encapsulate a stranger on the street into a consumable symbol rather than a complex multidimensional creature of both Soul and Skin. That's not to talk about how when getting my Library card, the designs were beyond beautiful and I had to try very hard not to shriek and shake and throw everything I was carrying to celebrate this discovery resting comfortably. The Zine Shelf.

It didn't hurt that the Library is one of the coolest places a human being can go to regardless of income or skill level. It's pro-human in the air molecules passed along from bookbound dustmotes. So we were driving back from another fun venture in the afternoon glow when from the corner of our little neighborhood we see a box with light purple flowers and thicky leafy greens hang aloft on-rim. This was a bountiful box of free-use harvest from a really healthy garden! Lavendar and Kale and so much of it to take!!! I only took what I needed though, and it was a lot to work with!! That night I harvested the lavendar buds, one part of the yield I lightly collected and placed in a container. The second half of the lavendar I blended until it was but a fine purple powder. I can use it for rituals and potions and whatever else but, to be quite honest I mostly use it for aromatics within face-masks for navigating the outside. It fucks. Oh but the Kale!!! the Kale I cooked along with some onions, coconut milk, marinara sauce and some pasta and a good bit of spices and peppers and I made something that was getting closer and closer to Indian food for it not being such. Oh and for a beef substitute I opted for what we had on-paw which was black-bean burger patties. It worked overall and the meal was something I'm still quite proud of! The kitchen is mighty to those with the courage to start a fire. This and many other stories, is a step.