Can't believe the audience doesn't give that guy a little more respect for hitting that note. 

Also, yes, I'm getting psyched for the Foo Fighters new album. 

Dunna Vetta

(or: My Life as an Insomniac)

It's lightening and thundering, though I can't hear it too well with the earplugs in. But the air is charged, and the cool breeze through the window is welcome. The soft boom and roll is comforting.

Rog is here in bed with me. (That feels oddly TMI and yet, why?) Anyway, we are test running the sleeping arrangements in prep for my family vacation in one week. He has the CPAP, the chin strap, the other sleep apnea device (Inspire), and I have the earplugs, the sleep mask, the sleep meds, and the cat locked out.

I think it's working.

I mean, actually working.

I am cheered by this thought. I don't know how the entire night is going to go yet, but I'll just take this little feeling and hold on to it.

I've been posting a lot of these for Pride Month over on hellsite and other venues.

Did some sketching in a physical sketchbook for the first time in a bajillion years. This one is of a fairly traditional halfling, hairfoot, or 'hobbit' (if you're not concerned with copyright). I did this one for comparison and as the 'default' for people to reference. 

Then, next, I did a rough concept sketch of a sub race that my buddy Brad and I are working on that we are tentatively calling 'dustlings'.

It took me wayyy too long to realize that I'd recreated a jacked version of Smeagol / Golum from the Hobbit / LOTR.

Back to the (literal) drawing board. 

It's fully baked COVID immunity day, kids!  And Sunday was our anniversary.  So tapas tonight.

"Fuzzy Robe Dad... He's got a knife!"

Do any of you remember this song that popped into my head this morning?

"They played jump rope, but the rope, it broke.
So they just sat around telling knock-knock jokes..."

Tomorrow I get my vaccine second dose. Trying to get my first dose was fraught and then I felt guilty when I won the appointment lottery--especially because it was not only just about week to wait but also was less than 2 miles from home. A bartender friend who scored an appointment a day later had to travel over 10 miles from home to get there. 

Spouse's doctor's office contacted him to schedule an appointment shorly after I'd made my appointment. Then about 10 days later the hospital associated with my gyne (but not my primary care) contacted me to schedule and appointment. Then my primary care doctor. And today. the County health department called to help me schedule if I needed to.

So the difficulty in getting a vaccine appointment, the guilt in scoring one, feels ridiculous within just a few weeks

(My vaccine was Pfizer, administered by Walgreens, which means it was done not at the recommended 3 week interval, but the easier-for-their-auto-scheduler 4-week interval. I'm not worried or annoyed by that, just noting the timeline. Spouse also got Pfizer, at the hospital, but his first shot was after mine, and his second shot before)

Hello, One Post Wonderers!

This will be my inaugural post, and also my first episode of vertigo -- hopefully my last episode of vertigo.  It happened last week, rather suddenly.  I have been suffering the usual dizziness and nausea.  Thankfully the nausea has been kept under control by medication.  Finding an able medical practicioner available to treat the problem has been challenging especially one without a COVID soup of a waiting room.  It's been four full days of dizziness and drowsiness.  Brian inquired how I was feeling this morning, and I replied that I had been upgraded from "drunken sailor" to "just drunken".  Brian wondered whether that was better, since sailors have more practice being drunken and thus might walk better.  I was under the impression that they would have a harder time walking on land, as well as being especially drunk after the deprivations of sea.  This discussion initiated a further contemplative session about the proper term to describe my condition -- "upgrade" or "downgrade"?  One is upgraded from coach to first class, which is better, but a hurricane is downgraded to a tropical storm, which indicates conditions are improving.  So the question remains, was I upgraded or downgraded?  Should I have described my unsteady toddle as improving to "just drunken" or should I have claimed "drunken sailor" status?  I'm getting better at weaving in a purposeful direction.  On the upside, I didn't have to spend any money on beer this week, and I do have an appointment, even if it is forty minutes away.

My nephew is a 13 year old Latino boy living in Chicago.

I walked away from the internet at the appropriate time today. I already knew that the video would show police had lied about the encounter. I also knew that I'd not be able to avoid a great deal of analysis and commentary from people I work with in the coming weeks. (It's our job)

But I just can't. How are we supposed to live in a world where adults meet children with lethal force? And even more when they have the color of law?