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On mobile, sorry in advance for format issues. I’ll try to fix when I have access. Also, thank you guys so much for the awards! I feel Reddit-validated 🥰
Hello, fellow smellows! I made my first post in this sub a little over a year ago after a friend introduced me to indies. Since then, trying and investing in perfume has become a full-fledged hobby of mine, and I’m still enjoying trying out new scents/combinations each month. I started my scent journey by delving into the Hexennacht collection, and DANG was I impressed. The thing about me is that when I find something I like, I commit to it. Hard. That, friends of every and no gender, is the background of the story of how AllTheCake tried the vast majority of the scents in the Hexennacht collection. And now, I’m passing my savings down to YOU. (Don’t get me wrong, though - I’m still definitely a newbie nose and I have no idea what I’m doing.
After taking extensive notes over the span of a year+, I’ve finally decided to be brave and post my thoughts regarding these scents, and I think I’m going to start with the scents I’ve tried falling between the letters A and C because HOLY shit, there’s like 30+ smells in those alone. I’ve never done reviews of...anything before, really, so I’ll be doing my best to condense and simplify my convoluted rating structure in noting how I feel about them because...god I wrote so much. Quick warning: I ramble and cuss. A lot. If either of those is a review dealbreaker, you may want to skip this series. ALSO, keep in mind that these reviews are based on my skin chemistry - shit’s fickle. Finally, I’m not being sponsored to write these. I’m just a crazy person who committed way too hard.
Last minute: I’m all over gourmands, spices, ambers, and cream/milk while being completely not into grape, super clean smells, heavy citrus, and niche atmospherics like motor oil, weed, etc. Fruit/berries and musks tend to be in, heavy florals tend to be out, greens and aquatics are touch and go, but everything has their exceptions. LET’S GO.

• Alexandrite (Incense, blackberry, raspberry, blueberry, plum, strawberry, dark patchouli, oudh): What better way to see what berry notes work on you than to try ALL OF THEM AT ONCE. The incense is immediate with a twinge of white smoke, but the berries are of course more prominent. Thankfully, it never got strong enough to hit what I call The Headache Threshold, which is what happens when some fruit notes are WAY too much for me. I appreciate the incense sticking around to negate some of the big sweetness (the title of my next album). The blackberry and strawberry showed up first. The raspberry kicked in a bit later and mixed nicely, but when the blueberry started to strengthen halfway through my work day, I was SUPER excited because apparently I really like blueberry. I think the plum may have played a more subtle role, and I only briefly smelled a smidge of patchouli near the end of the scent’s lifecycle, which was a pleasant undertone. Make no mistake, this is absolutely more fruit-forward than anything, and it is a heady sweet at the beginning, but this is summery as fuck, and I really like it. Verdict: Full sized, fruitilicious
  
• All Soul’s Night: Short and sweet review here. Roasting marshmallows over a campfire from wet to dry and everything between! The strength of the smoke element of this takes it to another level...you can really smell the embers and burn from the wood. At the same time, the marshmallow never shies away from the foreground, so it’s a great mix. Like Marshmallow Fireside from B&BW except more realistic and way better, in my opinion. This is a forever favorite. Verdict: Full sized, full size forever.
  
• Amityville (Pumpkin pecan waffles, pumpkin brûlée, marshmallow, sugar cookie, vanilla bean noel, salted caramel popcorn balls) : So sweet Ready-to-eat-my-wrists sweet. The waffles and the popcorn balls lead the way right off the bat with this...smells very much like I’ve gone to the state fair and am indulging in everything fried and bad for me, which is very much a me move. (I tried deep fried Oreos for the first time recently and now nobody can stop me.) I could absolutely see others describing this as cloying because it really doesn’t mess around with the sugar, but I think it’s great. My sweet tooth is massive, so...take that with a grain of salt. The caramel strengthens on the dry down, but the waffle scent sticks around as the strongest note for sure. It’s nice because the popcorn helps it keep the smell buttery but not enough to overwhelm. After several hours, I get nice warm sugar cookies fresh from the oven. I can’t say I ever really got the pumpkin brûlée...there may have been a bit of a bite in the background? Still, fantastic gourmand, but be careful because this will make you want to eat through your pantry. I want sugar cookies now, but I’m dieting. Life is unfair. Verdict: Full sized, threatening to my stomach
  
• Amortentia (white chocolate, raspberry cordial, rose petals): I’m getting the oddest combination of vague rose and sweet peanut butter when I put this on, which is the most confusing thing, considering there’s 0 peanut butter here. Maybe it’s the white chocolate? Is my nose broken? After a couple hours, the white chocolate formerly known as Peanut Butter forcibly drags the raspberry cordial behind it, which it then shoves into the forefront to take center stage whether it likes it or not. It went from something very strange to raspberries dipped in weird white chocolate with someone kind of lightly trickling down rose petals in the background, which isn’t that bad of a mix! The result is mild and sweet, and it strikes me as a spring gourmand...that said, after two tries, I think this is fine but wouldn’t be something I’d actively grab for. Verdict: Sample, very much like the Jif Berry Blend PB from the late 90s
  
• Apparition (Spectral amber, alabaster vanilla, bone-white woods): The internet really lives for this one, huh? Getting big Loup-Garou vibes from this when applied...I’m guessing it uses the same white amber note, which isn’t a bad thing. The amber and woods are really the stars of the show here, and they are bright! I feel so much fancier than I really am in this as I sit around in a tee shirt and capris. The vanilla makes its appearance about 15 minutes in, and the just-there sweetness that it brings is really pleasant! This one sat for a while to get this effect, but I’m a much bigger fan than I though I’d be. Verdict: Full size, chilli vanilli
  
• Arsenic (Chai, pumpkin puree, buttercream, vanilla cookies, powdered sugar): Pumpkin purée and chai come out first which is a lovely sweet and spicy combo! It has the same sort of air as Chai-mallow at the first go-round, which I like a lot. As it starts to dry down, the buttercream pops out more and mellows the chai a bit, which adjusts the scent profile to a more normal gourmand-y smell. The pumpkin and buttercream stick around the most on dry down...it’s interesting because to my nose, this seems to transform from a pumpkin chai cookie to a nice pumpkin roll cake sprinkled in powdered sugar...subtle transition, but pleasant. It’s familiar but new, and I really like it. Verdict: Full size, ready to bake
  
• Aziraphale (Marshmallow-topped hot cocoa, rice, wool, crepes, leather-bound antique books, and old, wooden bookshelves): Skin chemistry is a really bonkers thing. I don’t know if it was the leather or the wooden shelves or what, but whatever I smelled in that sample bottle was so pungent and unappealing that I trashed this. I could smell it on my hands even after washing them, and my hands only smelled like that note too, which is a real shame because I was particularly excited for the crepe note. It was just...burnt and harsh. Sorry but no. Verdict: BIG nope, mourning crepes
  
• Babooshka (Slow-baked sweet gourds, Russian tea cookies, pipe tobacco, Autumnal spice accord, caramel, nutmeg, honey, coumarin, beeswax absolute, cardamom sugar, crushed apples, black pepper, liatrix absolute): Autumn autumn AUTUMN. I’m already getting a good throw from this, a good start! Spices and tea cookies as the wet notes...thinking the cardamom sugar and pepper are the spices I’m getting the most. The gourds and apples showing up the more it dries give this a more earthy scent and pushes the spice into the background, which is good because a lot of spice scents go cinnamon-forward and that’s that. It’s not the sweetest scent I’ve tried in this collection which sort of surprises me given the note content, but I really enjoy it because of that! I actually think it being a little more subdued is working in its favor. This smell screams fall from the get-go, but not in a scented-candle-headache way. Also, my wife loves this one which is a bonus. Verdict: Full sized, aw yiss wife hugs
  
• Baltic Amber (Golden amber, pinus succinifera, cedarwood, jammy fir absolute, oakmoss absolute, tree moss, verdant musk, cardamom, balsam, lightning-scorched ancient boughs): Ohhhh, wow! This takes Hex’s lovely amber note and blasts it into overdrive with the help of the succinfera making it smell cold and woodsy. It’s a bright and resinous amber that sticks out really nicely. The hint of cedarwood at the start enhances the brightness and even gives it hints of the white amber note used at times. I get little bits of the balsam bursting in and out through the day which pushes it in a wintery direction, but it’s woodsy resin all the way down. It does fade quickly though...want to say it’s been about an hour 45 and it isn’t extremely strong, but I wonder if resting will give it more oomph? Or maybe just an extrait would be needed? Regardless, mmph. This is my favorite amber of the Hex collection so far. Verdict: Full sized, smooth criminal
  
• Banana Milk (Sweet milk, melted ice cream, vanilla pudding mix, banana): The bottle really amps up the pudding note more than I expected. It doesn’t show much banana to start, only a hint at the very end that smelled almost a little tart to my nose. As soon as I put this on, though, WHAM BAM THANK YOU BANAN. This is screaming banana pudding at my face which, as a southerner, I can definitely get behind. This is what I wanted to get more of in Bellypopper. It’s not an overpowering banana scent by any means, and it actually comes across as more realistic to my nose than the banana in Bananas Foster...maybe because the intensity of the sweetness isn’t as in-your-face? Even my wife, who has some touch and go issues with ID’ing what some perfumes should smell like, knew instantly it was banana. The pudding smell mixed with the sweet milk note quickly as well. I want to say it’s the same as the condensed milk note in Moloko Plus, one of my favorites, and I couldn’t be happier. About an hour or so in I start to get that ice cream note that goes plastic-y on me, but thanks to the miracle that is this banana, it’s not having that effect!!! What!? Maybe it’s because it’s warmer weather right now or a mix of the ingredients, but whatever is happening, it’s creamy and smooth...there’s a hint of that plastic there, though in this context, it doesn’t come across the same way. Hard to explain. I’ve been seeing reviews saying it’s a powdery smell on them, but this couldn’t be further from the case. On me, this is a smooth and milky banana pudding, and while something light like this isn’t what I would normally call luscious, to me it very much is. I’m in love. Verdict: Full sized, bathe me in this forever
  
• Bananas Foster (Caramelized bananas, buttery rum sauce, vanilla ice cream): This starts off a strong banana runts kind of smell, though as a fan of banana runts, I’m fine with this. Apparently this is actually what banana smelled/tasted like in the past which is a fun fact I knew offhand as a smart person and DEFINITELY didn’t learn from a YouTube video about hard candy. The rum sauce comes through pretty quickly to booze the banana up...it’s a little sharp, but it mixes well with the sweet banana. The ice cream note is kind of artificial (think this is the same note I mention in Butterbeer below), and it unfortunately sticks around WAY too long. The silage to me is weak, but other people I saw that day said it smelled nice, so I guess my nose just got used to it. I think this is nice, but Banana Milk is my new Banana Bae. Verdict: Occasional sample, but not unpleasant
  
• Bay Harbor Butcher (Red strawberries and fresh, salty ocean air): This definitely gives you what it says it will! The strawberry note is sweet and fresh, and it’s not for the faint of heart. I’m not sure how realistic it is off the top of my head, but it’s pretty intense...in a good way! It’s more realistic than your candy store strawberry because it has just a smidge of tartness behind the sweet. As it mellows out, you can get a touch more of the salt in there to give this a bit of oomph. And no headaches! I’ve gotta go back and edit my Alexandrite review, I think it was the blackberry scaring me about headaches after all. If you really want a treat, layer some Spectre on this one for a strawberry milkshake experience. Verdict: Either repeat sample or full size, haven’t decided
  
• The Bell Witch (Blood musk, ebon musk, feral musk, nag champa, sandalwood, incense, guaiacwood, vanilla, bergamot, aged dark patchouli, woodsmoke, amber): This was applied very conservatively because I thought it’d be intense when too much is worn. I smelled one or two of the musks (not sure which), the nag champa, and just a hint of the woodsmoke when I put this on. It’s very much a resinous scent, and it relies on the blend of scents rather than starring one note as the main focus and branching off from it. I got a smidge of the bergamot when it started drying down, and then the scent was just....gone. I’m not sure if it was a speedy nose blindness or it just faded fast because I didn’t put on enough, but by 1 1/2 hours in I could barely smell it. A whiff of musk here, a smaller whiff of amber there...but nothing for the rest of the day. Frankly, I don’t think I can give it a full, fair assessment. Going to put this one back in the cabinet for a few months and try it again later to see how it matures. Verdict: ??? Where did she go?
  
• Bellypopper (Chocolate and banana puddings, whipped cream and white chocolate shavings): This is 100% like I’ve opened up a pudding snack pack back in middle school. I immediately get the chocolate and banana from this - the banana note is actually really nice and balanced the chocolate well so it wasn’t overpowering like some chocolate notes tend to be, at least on me. (Looking at you, Tokyomilk.) The white chocolate comes in a bit later, but unfortunately, that’s about as much as I got. The smell just kind of disappeared after maybe 3 hours - it was there, but just barely. My wife couldn’t even tell I had anything on. I guess it’s fine? I don’t think it left enough of an impression to hold on to. Verdict: Not a repeat, lunchroom favorite
  
• Big Toddy Goth GF (Spiced buttered rum, bourbon, honey, cinnamon, nutmeg, clove cigarettes): The buttered rum and bourbon come at you straight from the get-go, though they relax quickly, leading into the nutmeg a bit. Smells like a holiday drink (which I guess it is because toddy...). The buttered rum is a smidge cloying and sticks around on the dry down, but I don’t dislike it...I have a lot of fond memories eating those old fashioned candy sticks in Butter Rum flavor specifically at the beach as a kid, so I’m okay with it. The clove makes its way in a few hours in, and it sadly doesn’t have the stronger clove cig notes I was looking for...I’ve never been able to find a clove cigarette scent emulated properly to bring back those sweet “summer of 2010” memories, so the hunt continues. Still, it’s sassy, boozy, sugary, and the spices mix really pleasantly with the overall scent, so it still fits...no harm in smelling like classy Buttershots. Verdict: Full sized, full-tittied
  
• Bisou (Smeared lipstick and warm, flushed skin: vanilla, orris root, violet, sugar, cetalox, skin musk, and safraleine): I asked Caroline to send me her current favorite scent as a sample with my second full-size order, and this was the result. Honestly, I wrote Bisou off when I saw the description because 1) it has violet in it, which on me usually smells like baby powder, and 2) I’m a scent note babby and have NO idea what half of the ingredients in this were supposed to smell like. It‘a a sweet floral in the bottle (thinking it’s the orris root...I LOVE irises so that’s nice!), but on my skin, it changed almost immediately! It starts off with an inoffensive but artificial note that I think is the lipstick note with a violet edge to it. The orris root seems to be balancing that violet undertone out, which I couldn’t be more thankful for because this violet is miraculously not as powdery and feels more like a light dusting because of it. A lot of people I’ve seen that tried this call Bisou a sexy smell, but that’s not my interpretation. Smelling this, my brain immediately brought me to an incredibly specific memory from when I was some single-digit age in the early 90s waiting for my mom to finish shopping at Talbots. A Sting song was playing over the speakers, and I was watching a video they had on a small TV of a fashion show where models were showing off looks made with the clothes in stock. This was a really weird tangent, but I guess the point I’m trying to make is that this smell is really evocative, and I actually...like it a lot? To me it reads as extremely confident, like a businesswoman in the 80s with big shoulder pads and bigger dreams. (And I guess she shops at Talbots.) I feel like I’m not enjoying it for the reasons I expected to, but the end result is good! My only sadness with this is that it didn’t last super long on my skin the first time I wore it, but I wore this again to my wife’s family Christmas party and I’m still smelling it now (and I got several compliments!), so maybe it just needed more rest time. This came in a generous 5mL sample, so I’m still working through it, but I’m going to keep this around. Verdict: Full size, this review brought to you by Talbots apparently
  
• Blackberry Lavender Lemonade: This is pleasant! Very summery, it reads like it’d be nice during warm weather. Every note is present and bright in this order, not one thing overshadowing the rest...lavender really likes to star in scents, so this is good news. I’ve found that most lemon scents get a little cleaner-y on me, but the lemonade note doesn’t ever take on that feeling with the blackberry background. I don’t think I want this in a full-size, but I’ll revisit samples now and again. Verdict: Repeated sample, summer lovin’
  
• Black Mass (Smoked vanilla, frankincense, Peru balsam, labdanum, amber, vetiver, Atlas cedarwood, patchouli, night musk, and scorched marshmallows): This is one of a few reviews that I’ve doubled back on and am re-reviewing after my first time wearing it to see if it resting changes my mind. My first try saw it as a little sweet, then a strong plastic note that was too much to get over, leading to dislike. This time around, I think I’m getting mostly frankincense, amber, and balsam on application, as it vaguely reminds me of the forest-y note in Thanatos but much more resinous...the frankincense is definitely the plastic note I smelled before, and thankfully it chilled out more the second time around. It picks up on just a smidge of woodiness, and by the end of the day, it becomes much more like marshmallow with some green resin undertones...not much shifting here. That said, I’m really glad I gave it a second chance. It’s a very warm forest-y smell with just that bit of gourmand sweetness helping it out, which is a weird description, I know. I still think the frankincense can be a bit too much like plastic, but it toned down massively since the first time I tried this to a point where it doesn’t last long enough for me to count it out. I can’t even put my finger on what kind of scent this is, but it’s worth trying. Verdict: Probable full-size, fantastic plastic
  
• Black Phillip (Black amber, dragon’s blood, black musk, tonka, black oak, firewood embers, black currant, soft woods, black pepper): The black amber and black currant are the first two things I personally smelled here, spicy with a hint of fruitiness. I got more dragon’s blood out of the bottle initially than I did on my skin, but that quickly changed within maybe 10 minutes. Eventually, the whole smell mellowed out and I got more of the musk and the tonka with just a hint of that currant and woods keeping it from getting too dark. I haven’t seen much of the pepper or embers which is disappointing because I sort of like that slight burn to those notes. It’s a nice smell, but it wasn’t spectacular to me in any regard. Verdict: Discontinued. That’s it, no funny follow-up
  
• Black Vanilla (Golden amber, three different vanillas, marshmallow fluff, musk) Goes on dark, Amber and musk are the two head notes on this and it’s just what I was hoping for. It’s dark and very much wants to be noticed...BV’s the girl with smokey eyes and black lipstick checking you out from across the room, and you want to approach her but also you have anxiety. The vanillas slowly poke out to make themselves known after this little onslaught which helps to mellow the smell out a bit. I can’t honestly pick out which vanilla is which in the collection, but they blend together really nicely. Then the marshmallow pops out. Everything makes an appearance little-by-little, with each note being careful not to step on its predecessor’s toes. This is definitely a “feel sexy” scent. My only concern is that the silage/throw is a bit weak. May last better in spray form. I’ve been looking for a smell like this...definite full purchase. Verdict: Full sized, forgot to get it as an EDP. Whoops
  
• Blood Moon (Dragons blood, smoked vanilla, pipe tobacco, beeswax, sanguine musk): If you’re looking for something strong/with a good throw, consider Blood Moon. The dragon’s blood is no joke! It and the pipe tobacco are heavy and present from the start - my wife could smell me from several feet away when I put this on. With a stuffy nose. It doesn’t have a Smaug-like aggressiveness to it because the red musk note isn’t as intense, but it’s still there, still looming, and has still respawned all the enemies you’ve killed thus far to keep your game balanced. Weirdly enough, the tobacco became the strongest element in this after a bit of time...DB usually doesn’t step back as much on my skin, so I appreciated this. The smoked vanilla made an appearance about an hour and a half in, and it’s the first time I’ve actually been able to pick it out - this is a neat note! It’s fiery without being a heavier smoke like the note in ASN or Fumer...it adds some sweetness without being too “yo here’s vanilla what up”. I’d say it’s almost reminiscent of C’eci Ne Pas Une Pipe. The beeswax and musk is what it generally ends on, but it’s a nice journey. I thought I wasn’t going to like this as much as I did based on how Smaug worked out comparatively (spoilers), but that vanilla changed my mind. The blood moon will rise again, I think! Verdict: Full size, LIIIINK
  
• Boo-berry (Blueberry cordial, blueberry cobbler, vanilla bean): This is a treat! The cobbler smell comes in pretty quickly on this, giving a hint of baked good to turn this into a fruity gourmand very early. The cordial lightens the scent back up, though, so it isn’t buttery or pastry-reminiscent for more than a moment. The vanilla pops through more later in the day with the cordial backing it up, but it feels like a more authentic vanilla, which is nice. I really enjoy this smell, but its biggest drawback is that I think it has the weakest silage of all the Hex scents I’ve tried so far. Started getting weak around the 2-3 hour mark,which was disappointing. Still, the smell is fruity, fun, and doesn’t make my head hurt - wins all around! May have more luck with this as an extrait, which I’ll be buying in this scent when I grab a full. Verdict: Full size, da ba dee da buh di
  
• Bourbon Street (Coffee, beignets, mahogany, pipe tobacco, cocoa, cardamom): This is so different! I feel like I very specifically smell like a coffee shop in a classy way. The coffee is the most prominent note, but I get this masculine undertone of what I think is the pipe tobacco...or maybe a mix of that and the mahogany? It’s this odd balance that makes me think of an aged wooden coffee house table that has been stained with the subtle smell of cigarette smoke over the years. The coffee fades a touch after a few hours, and I finally start to get that sweet beignet note...reminds me of Sucre due to the powdered sugar. (Would a touch of that be good here?) I also appreciate that the cocoa note in this is more of a support role to deepen the tobacco and coffee...I’ve realized that too much can be overwhelming for my skin, but this is just enough to give the smell that oomph. This is REALLY good, probably my favorite coffee scent by Hex thus far. I’m impressed. Verdict: Full size, I miss going places
  
• Butterbeer (Sweet, golden, drippy butterscotch, rich vanilla ice cream, hot buttered rum): Sugary butterscotch immediately, a smell where you know for sure what you’re eating is terrible for you. It may be tempting to lick your wrists. Do not do this. I love the immediate sweet notes of it, but unfortunately, the dry down leaves a lot to be desired. The ice cream note was artificial on my skin, and the butterscotch all but disappeared. The buttered rum does make an appearance at the very end as well which helps, but the ice cream is the main note for me and makes it hard to look past. I probably would’ve liked this back in high school, but I’m 30 now and can’t get away with this. If you like sticky-sweet-tastebuds-on-fire-oh-god-my-teeth-where-am-I gourmand, then this is for you. I had high hopes for it, but on my skin, it’s a no-go. (Slightly related, if anyone finds a Butterbeer recipe with no carbonation/cream soda involved, let a girl know.) Verdict: Destash, dear god the sugar
  
• Cake (White/yellow frosted cake accord): So full disclosure: when my bottle of this from Ajevie came in, I was scared. In the bottle, this was frosting. Only frosting. Like grocery store, crunches-when-you-bite-it, way-too-sweet frosting. Even I have my sugar limits. I only used a little in the crook of my elbow because I was already wearing a scent, but...y’all. I‘m ready to slather myself in this. I should have had more faith in Caroline. The frosting note isn’t nearly as strong when applied, but within 30 minutes, it had nearly completely transformed into a BEAUTIFUL cake smell. I’m talking the most realistic warm, baked cake scent I’ve ever smelled. I hadn’t seen the full description when wearing it and couldn’t decide if it was more like white or yellow cake...from me to me, surprise, dumbass, it’s both. I never thought I’d find a cake smell that wasn’t overly generic or cloying, but my search is finally over. Verdict: Glad this blind buy was a full size, I match my username
  
• Calm The Fuck Down (lavender, ylang ylang, bergamot, vanilla, and patchouli): When wet, the lavender and what I think is the ylang ylang make their move first. It’s a light floral that almost takes on a minty tone even though there’s no mint involved. Perfume is crazy! It’s a very simple scent at first, but these notes stick around for a while thankfully, to help the calm induce in. On dry down, the patchouli only made a brief appearance. I wish it’d stuck around because it really added some depth to the scent. The vanilla arrives near the end to make it a sweet floral, but then it switches back to the ylang ylang as the big note, which I didn’t expect, as vanilla usually shows up the most on me out of all of these. It’s a nice soft floral that isn’t necessarily a favorite, but considering floral isn’t my immediate personal style, I like it enough to try again, just not sure if I like it enough. Verdict: Probably repeat sample, you can’t tell me what to do you bottle of smell
  
• Camp Crystal Lake (Lake water, fishing dock, seaweed, forest): Once again, Caroline knocked it out of the park with this...I’m not usually a fan of atmospherics, but this one is great. I feel like I’m getting almost everything promised from this on application: the blue aquatic notes from the water, the slightly salty tinge of seaweed, the green notes from the forest...just missing the old fishing dock. This is a weirdly refreshing smell and really makes me long for the summer. Not like mid-summer where it’s 100 degrees out and everything is melting...I want that 85 degree summer where jumping in the water feels the best. The wood dock smell eventually comes through, and it’s awesome. It’s a sweeter wood, but it has just a hint of tang to it that makes it feel just aged enough. This makes me hate that we’re in the middle of winter because I think I want to wear this at the beach. Off topic! This is super refreshing, and while atmospherics haven’t been great for me so far, this is a change that I’ve really enjoyed. Also? It lasted all dang day. I’m on hour 9 now and I can still smell it. Sticking with it!. Verdict: Likely full size, “damp” used as a positive
  
• Ceci N'est Pas Une Pipe (Aged Madura cigars, spiced vanilla, beeswax votives, golden honeycomb): I hope I like this, my dumb ass bought two samples by mistake. This is a heavy scent, I can already tell. Strangely enough, I’m first getting both the cigars and the honeycomb on application, which I didn’t expect since it was listed as a lesser note. I was pretty scared about the cigar note because actual cigar smoke is way too thick and noxious to me, but this is more subdued than I was expecting...I guess what I’m getting is the oil that would be in the maduro wrapping itself, not the smoke. It’s warmer and deeper to the point of...comforting? It’s deep. I like it! The only slight bummer is that I don’t get a lot of vanilla in this, weirdly...vanilla usually pushes its way through on my skin, but the honey is actually putting out more sweetness than anything. It’s subtle, though, and it’s muted by the beeswax, so it isn’t giving me a honey headache. This scent is dark and more unisex, though it reads feminine and just a tad floral on my skin. I’ve really grown to love the warmth it has through the day...this is a rebuy for sure. Guess it’s good I got two after all. Verdict: Full size, about to invite you into my parlor to chat about the man I know you killed
  
• Cereal Killer (Fruit Loops, Cap’n Crunch berries, Trix cereal): Deadass, in the bottle, this smells like Trix or Fruity Pebbles. I’m baffled. What mix of notes created this? After putting it on, this amps up the fruit to the nth degree...I do get background notes of cereal, but some fruity note in particular is trying its damndest to make itself known. What IS that? Orange and lemon mixed? It really pushes its way up front first, but everything else eventually catches up. This is a nice and very accurate take on these beloved cereal scents...but why I’d ever want to smell like this is beyond me 😆 Still, I think this would be a fun smell to wear around children. Verdict; Occasional sample, follow your nose
  
• Cereal Marshmallows (Is what it is!): Another quickie review. Artificial and muted-fruity, just like the shmallows themselves! It really doesn’t change past this and is very one-note, but for what it is, it’s nice. If you like cutesy and sugary smells, you’ll be a fan, but I think I’m okay with just having a sample. Wonder how this would mix with Cereal Killer...? Verdict: Discontinued, you can buy a whole bag of cereal marshmallows on Amazon for real
  
• Chai-Mallow (Marshmallow, buttercream, black tea, chai spices): You know it’s going to be good when you put it on and immediately think “yeeees.” The buttercream and the black tea acted as the opening notes on this, which I really love. It’s an immediate sweet-bitter balance that almost reminds me of a mild coffee with sweet cream and sugar. It sweetens back up again as the tea fades a touch, though. The dry down is a nice warm, sweet spice that isn’t too overpowering and really gives you that “I’m drinking chai-shmallow tea in a Barnes and Noble” feel. At the end of the day, it’s exactly what it says it is: a spicy marshmallow. I LOVE this. Verdict: Full size, the spiciest marshmallow
  
• Chakra Khan (Amber, sandalwood, vanilla, orange blossom, tonka, patchouli): I’ve been convinced there was nag champa in this for like a month, but apparently not! This reads very bright. The amber and slightly sweet sandalwood play together nicely here, taking on a slight floral quality with the orange blossom peeking through the background. The vanilla becomes a bit more apparent several minutes after application too, and it’s a nice vanilla. Not gourmand-y, just light sweetness. It does have head shop vibes to some degree, but I’m appreciating this because it’s light and not so “head shop” as to overwhelm my sense of smell like some nag champa or incense-forward smells can. It’s odd too because for an amber perfume, it reads very “spring” to me. Any patchouli in this is masked by the amber in my case, but it evens out to a nice mellow sweetness. If you’re an amber fan, I’d say it’s worth giving a shot! Verdict: On the fence about full or repeat sample, not on the fence about this being nice
  
• Champanilla (Nag champa, vanilla liqueur, vanilla bean, musk): Spirit Temple’s loud big sister! The nag champa is powerful in this on application and is definitely the main note of the scent by a landslide...my wife woke up with a stuffy nose and could still smell this right after I put it on. It’s almost a smidge bitter after letting it sit for a while, I’d say. The weird thing is that this doesn’t give me as much of a head shop vibe as Spirit Temple did...I think the fact that Spirit Temple’s version was NC incense instead of straight up NC makes a difference. That said, once it dries, it’s still very much the nag champa and not vanilla. The vanilla bean is back there trying to poke through and sweeten the smell a bit, but the champa has Diva Syndrome and won’t let it come out of the background. When the musk shows up, it gives it some depth, but I really wish I got more vanilla out of this. It’s not bad by any means, but I find it a smidge intense. Will probably let this one sit and give it another shot later. Verdict: Meh, Spirit Temple coming at a later date
  
• Children Of the Corn (Candy corn, caramel corn, kettle corn): No mincing words on this: it smells almost exactly like caramel corn on application. This has buttery popcorn notes to it, but there’s a hint of the candy corn’s starchy sweetness in there too. This is super gourmand and definitely invokes the caramel corn imagery, but I think its overall sweetness makes it more palatable for me. I can dig it! Verdict: Repeat sample, I do love me some corn
  
• Cloven (Spun sugar with a dash of clove): Oh Cloven. Dear, dear Cloven. I’m so saddened by you. The spun sugar is VERY strong on application to the point of sickening. This smells more like jelly beans than spun sugar to my nose...maybe the cotton candy jelly bean that Jelly Belly makes. On dry down, the clove does help to comfort it a bit, but at the same time, it still feels like a cycle between smelling like spicy jellybeans and anise for some reason, neither of which I like smelling like as a singular note. By the end of the day, it just smells like a light dusting of sugar versus the jellybean, but it isn’t enough to redeem the rest of what’s happened. I respect the clove for trying to make this right, and I still love it as a note...but the two of them desperately need to see other people. Verdict: Ugh, fatal attraction much?
  
• Corpse Bride (Black roses, white amber, damp earth, vanilla, tonka, musk): Phew, this is potent from the start...you want floral? You’ve got floral. The earthy note is there and gone to make way for the strong rose note (maybe a tinge of it is left, but I can barely smell it), then the bright amber pops in too and fights the rose for the status of main note. It’s got a pretty heavy start, not gonna lie...feels as though the throw on this is really strong even though I put on LESS than usual. When it settles, I pretty much only get rose with a bit of musk at the tail end...not smelling any vanilla at all in this! I’m just glad the rose calms down because...phwoof. It’s a bit too intense for me. It’s a nice scent, but honestly, I don’t think it’s the kind of scent that fits me. This kind of floral isn’t quite my thing. Verdict: Nah, I’ve got a gnome and I’m not afraid to use it
  
• Crowley (Black tea, bergamot, tobacco, vanilla, amber): Starts off more dry and earthy than other Hex scents I’ve tried so far. It looks like the black tea doesn’t contain cream in this mix because that tea note is bold! It’s pleasant and almost slightly floral. The brightness of the bergamot seems to enhance this and gives it more of a woodsy tone while it develops. The tobacco was really subtle when it came through, and I wasn’t able to smell it until I caught a whiff of it and the amber an hour and a half later...it likes to sneak up on you to give you a pleasant surprise. Even with the light sweetness of the vanilla, this never gets to be “too much” of any one note, which I always love in developing scents because it keeps them balanced. This smell is really not like me at all, to be frank, but I’m thoroughly enjoying what it’s turning into. I can see what all the hype was about! Verdict: Full size, the genderfluid demon of our dreams
  

So there we go! I’ve got a lot more to come, so this won’t be the last you see of me...also won’t be the last after I’m done with all my Hex reviews. I will take any advice on how to make the next one of these more manageable. Shit’s going to be stressful for the next week, everyone keep safe ❤️

Introduction: I’m Asian-American, first generation, grew up low-income. My career has been focused on financial wellness and wealth building for low-income communities. I’ve learned alot about finances, but not sure I would’ve sought out the same info at such depth if work wasn't the catalyst.
SECTION ONE: ASSETS AND DEBT
Net Worth: -$2,100
Retirement: $39,000. Before my Master’s, balance was ~$50k, accumulated in 3 years post college. Maxed out Roth IRA and 401k for 2 of those years.
Equity: None. My partner K bought a house for us recently, still under his name only.
Savings Accounts: $650
Checking Accounts: $250
Credit Card Debt: $0
Student Loan Debt: $42,000. $22k federal, $20k owed to siblings.
College: No debt, thanks to a full-ride scholarship I won. I had part-time jobs and spent most of my money on clothes. My brother sent me $1000 every year, and other siblings gifted me money during holidays.
Grad school: All my current debt. I dumped savings and some retirement funds into tuition. Even with a scholarship of $20k/year, I had to borrow 40k. Professional school is expensive, y’all. I had part-time jobs, and all earnings went to living expenses.
Other Debt: $0
Inheritance: Me - none.
Partner – The house down payment was a gift from his parents. He’ll also get a significant inheritance from eventually. His parents grew up poor but aren't anymore, and have always been frugal. The life his parents gave him is what I’d like to give my kids if I have them: set them up well without spoiling.
My parents worked so hard to support my family. When I tried to give them my paychecks in high school, they told me to keep them for myself. When I bought gifts for them during holidays, they told me I should spend for myself. My siblings (including me) who spent the most time in the US, and thus could benefit the most long-term, are all financially stable. My older siblings still struggle and won’t accept help. I remember all the time how lucky I am to have a supportive family.
Other Related:
Before March, I lived in a 2 bed apartment in a big city with a roommate. I planned to visit K for Spring Break but moved in with him instead due to quarantine. We intended for this to happen after my graduation, but the timeline was sped up. We never shared finances before but now he was taking care of all our living expenses. K didn’t mind and was happy to. I wouldn’t have cared if our situations were flipped. But I felt guilty having someone else pay so much for me. And for so long I was a strong, independent woman and it felt like I was giving up some of that.
But I realized that we are partners in many ways, including this. We try to make life easier for each other, and K was doing that for me just as I do for him. Besides, my independence was enabled by the safety net of my family. I aim to provide the same for K, for my nephews/nieces, and for my kids if I have them – and I certainly won’t consider them “less independent” for taking those opportunities. Seriously, this has been a main point of my whole career! Gotta apply it to myself.
Partner’s Net Worth: $200,000+
SECTION TWO: INCOME
Income Progression: I was an English and Classics major who had tried some teaching and considered law school. I really blossomed skills-wise at my first post-college job, and learned so much from many wonderful people. Also, the nonprofit field allows me to be a jack of all trades due to their funding constraints. Turns out I’m a master of none, and that's okay (;
2015 - $15,000 for 10-month term
2016 - $48,000 annual, promotion
2017 - $52,000 annual, promotion
Start grad school
2018 - $40/hour, consultant
2019 - picked up $20/hr for university
End grad school
2020 - $65,000 annual, strategy-related role
After graduation this year I was unemployed for 3 months. In August my current employer offered me a short-term, full-time position and hope to keep me long-term. Crossing my fingers, as I’m very inspired by their mission and impact. Regarding salary, if I stayed in/gone back to expensive cities, I would’ve sought a higher range. I’m now in a low COL town so adjusted accordingly.
Monthly Take Home: $4,481. Taxes taken out, no benefits.
Partner’s Monthly Take Home: ~$7,000. Deductions for health insurance (for both of us), 401k, HSA, all that jazz. This has been his salary for 2 years. Before this, a grad school stipend (~$35k) for many years.
SECTION THREE: MONTHLY EXPENSES
Our finances are joint now and we consult each other on buys at $100+.
Mortgage: $700
Property Taxes: $800
Home & Car Insurance: $45
Savings & Investment: Whatever’s left after expenses.
Debt Payments: $0. I'll funnel all my earnings into this (after Roth IRA). But it won’t be enough before the grace period expires and interest is capitalized on my federal loans. Anything left owed to the feds will be covered by K’s savings and paid off before 2021. Then I’ll focus on paying my siblings back.
Donations: $625
Gas/Electric/Heat: Unknown, these bills are lying around somewhere.
Trash: $15
Wifi: $50
Phone: $0. K is on a family plan, and I’m on one with my siblings.
Groceries: $600 average
Subscriptions: Amazon Prime $10. Netflix and Hulu 0, using family plans. Google Play Music Family $15.
Gym Membership: $60 for K's membership. Will get mine once we’re comfortable going again.
Pet: Unknown, haven't summed up all the cat things.
Miscellaneous (eating out, hobbies, gifts, random purchases, etc.): $200 average
SECTION FOUR: THE DIARY
Day 1, Sunday
8:45 am After waking up and going back to sleep a few times, I finally just get up. I do my morning routine: wash face, brush teeth, take pill, contacts, ring, brush hair, moisturizer.
My partner K is playing with the kitty, and I join. We adopted her not long ago, so she’s still acclimating. K calls her a scaredy cat because she’s skittish about everything. She's now in her carrier, in catloaf position (paws tucked and hidden, so she looks like a bread loaf) and not budging.
9:20 I check on my plants and do some planty things. I decide I want crepes for breakfast, and defrost 2 leftovers in the oven. As I wait, I scan through old starred emails. One is from Chase, offering a complimentary Shoprunner one year membership. Why not? The website tells me I already have an account, of course. But I don’t know my password and have to reset. I’m hungry and will get back to this.
I eat the first crepe like normal but everything falls out, so the 2nd gets the pancake treatment. With apples and maple syrup, they’re delicious.
Shoprunner finally works. I haven’t been spending much online, but if I do I’ll get free shipping (I never buy online without it).
12:00 pm We eat defrosted pizza for lunch. We’ve been watching Brooklyn 99 during meals, but today we watch Adventure Time. I give him my crusts as usual, since I don’t like them. Afterwards, K asks me to crack his back by standing on it. I manage to do so without totally breaking his back. Then I putz around while he packs for a work trip. I make him coffee and give him his daily portion of cookies (he asked me to hide and portion them). K leaves to finish up work at his office. I play Tetris on the Switch.
4:15 I take a shower. Fall weather hit one day last week with zero transition, and it’s been much cooler since, and the toasty water is so nice. K gets home and finishes packing. We drive out to his company lot so he can get the rental car. We hug goodbye. It feels like our long distance days again ); I've gotten very used to seeing him all day every day thanks to quarantine. He calls me before I get home - his car wasn’t delivered due to some miscommunication, so I have to drop him off at the rental center.
7:40 I feed the kitty and finally start cooking. I make pork chops seared in a cast iron pan, finished in the oven. I flavor it with salt, pepper, thyme, coriander, dill, and sage. I love cooking and being able to experiment so much. Sometimes it turn out a bit funny but hey, that's how I learn. I eat a pork chop with leftover jasmine rice.
My favorite Youtube channel has a new video. I don’t follow many but enjoy Safiya Nygaard’s content so much. The new one is about acrylic pour art. I think I'd feel bad about all the paint, but the finished pieces look so cool! I actually like her “bad attempts” more. I should try acrylics; I've mostly used watercolors but might be missing out on a medium I'll like.
9:30 K texts that he’s reached the hotel. It’s not that long a road trip and unlikely anything bad will happen, but I still worry. I’m glad he arrived okay.
9:45 I cut my fingernails. They grow like weeds, so I snip them every week otherwise they poke my eyeballs when removing contacts. I play Hearthstone on my phone during this. Then bedtime. My nightly routine: brush teeth, mouthwash, rotate fittonia plant, ring off, contacts out, lip balm, lotion.
11:30 Okay, I’m still awake, browsing online. I set my alarm for 7:30 am and sleep.
Total $0
Day 2, Monday
7:30 am Alarm wakes me. Snooze. Alarm again. I get up and feed the cat.
7:55 I put on a work outfit: green pleated maxi skirt and a mint green top with an orange, pink, and green floral pattern. Pink cardigan too since the office is cool.
My style is the most "feminine" and "loud" at this office - lots of colors and patterns, and silhouettes that are stereotypically feminine. Sometimes I wonder if I should tone myself down. Whether people might take me more seriously professionally if I wore more pants, muted colors and patterns. But this is what I enjoy, and if people underestimate me based on how I dress, that's on them, not me. I'm fortunate that previous coworkers have shown confidence in my abilities (even when I had little confidence) that I never had to "tone down” myself to get more respect.
8:00 Pack for work using a swag bag they gave me, which I know is cheesy but fits all my things well. Grab Greek yogurt and spoon for breakfast. I need to attach a voided check to my direct deposit form, so I add that. Got badge and mask. Mist my maranta. Shoes on – I pick Sketchers since my maxi will hide them mostly. But no one will notice my shoes, per the wise words of Gustav in Ever After!
8:10 While backing out, I spot trash bags on my neighbors' curbs - it's trash day. Usually my partner takes out the trash, so I debate waiting until next week. Then I tell myself the trash will get gross and stinky, even if in plastic bags, and also to be an adult. I roll the can to the curb. Upon arrival at work, I find a parking spot where I don't have to back up to get out. I'm always paranoid about hitting things/people, even with plenty of lot space. I haven't actually hit anything/one (that I know of) but still.
8:40 My coworker responds about the office book club. They've been reading White Fragility. I stop by her office and get the book, yay! The group is meeting again next week so I need to catch up. I then eat my yogurt. As my boss walks by me, she compliments my skirt (:
10:00 Meeting with boss and person she's been waiting to chat with for awhile, via phone. Person is shocked and unhappy at our update, and ends the call fast. Me and boss chat about a realization I had this morning, that will likely change one of the main things we want to do for my project. Whether this is a good thing or not is TBD. I go refill my tea at the hot water dispenser, so far away at the other end of the office. Note to self: bring own mug and stop hogging this office one. Then I find a thing that could be a big breakthough, maybe. If other things go a certain way, perhaps.
11:45 I head out. I'm doing half days remote because I don't feel like prepping lunches to bring. Also I feel bad about leaving kitty alone all day (dunno if she cares). It's sunny but chilly outside. I'll definitely want all remote when it gets colder.
12:00 pm Wegman’s pit stop. They stock new plants every week or so. I debate a cute succulent for $5, but as I put it down, accidentally brush against a leaf and break it. Now I have to get it! I also buy a huge cat grass for $4, to distract kitty from eating my ponytail palm.
12:20 I drop into a local flower shop for the first plant I’ve ever ordered, a rattlesnake calathea. So pretty (: There are more leaves than expected for this size pot and price. This florist sells small plants for only $5 and take orders. (Very dangerous, but I limited myself to one plant...for now.)
Going home, I have to do a loop because the main road has one-way sections, arg. I think I have a lot of driving anxiety, probably because I spent 8 years using mostly public transportation and walking.
12:35 Instant ramen and diet grapefruit soda for lunch, classic adult meal. I think that the best standard brand is Mama ramen, and my favorite flavor is the creamy shrimp tom yum. The best spicy ramen are the Samyang spicy chicken ones. I usually add dried seaweed, but not feeling it today.
I later set up work in our office room. It’s so nice to have my own desk. I was using K’s since he no longer works from home, but prefer mine with my own pictures and knick-knacks, like my squishy stress bunny. I try to access files through remote desktop but can’t. IT puts me on hold. Is it worth driving back into work? Now the line tells me to leave a voicemail; I do, but I’d rather just keep holding.
2:55 An IT person calls me back. As I’m telling him what’s wrong, I realize I never logged into remote VPN, so of course I had no access. I apologize to him, feeling bad I wasted his time. This must be like the jokes about people not plugging things in yet expecting them to work. IT sends an email saying the ticket was resolved. My silliness is documented for eternity.
Meat stick (prosciutto-wrapped mozzarella) for consolation. Back to work, more munchies so I eat an apple too.
5:40 K and I chat and agree to play Don’t Starve Together later, which we started a few days ago. Dinner is pork chop, rice, defrosted mixed veggies. My friend and I talk over the phone as I eat. We grew up in the same hometown, and she's been my bestie for a long time. I can’t recall a time when we weren’t friends! (She does - when we were very young. I just have bad memory.) She’s recently had very exciting things happen, and I love hearing her life updates. She's one of few friends I'm close enough with that we speak very candidly about everything.
7:30 Kitty joins me on the living room couch. Her sudden epiphany: she can knead my blanket, and does for a long time. I pet her while she kneads. Then dinner for the cat. I also check on my new plants and water them.
As I go outside to repot a plant, I see a small package on the porch. Addressed from a friend and labeled "fragile". It’s a ring dish! So lovely and thoughtful, and I was just thinking about getting one. I text my friend many thanks and place it in the bathroom.
8:40 K and I play Don’t Starve Together on our computers. About 5 minutes in, we’re suddenly attacked by scary dogs and I die ): I’m a ghostie for awhile as he attempts to revive me, but it’s a struggle. We decide to play Stardew Valley next time, since this game more difficult than we thought it’d be. I play Animal Crossing afterwards. A new neighbor moved in, a cute koala named Alice!
11:30 Okay, time for bed. Ugh, I keep browsing instead of sleeping.
Total $15.10
Day 3, Tuesday
8:00 am Alarm goes off. I push snooze. Then I remember kitty is waiting for food, so instead get up and feed her. I eat yogurt and get work started.
9:50 Break time! I drive to the Habitat for Humanity ReStore nearby. I haven’t gone in the past two weeks, but we got some amazing furniture deals here. Like our beautiful 10x13 living room rug for only $50. The thrift stores around here have actual thrift store prices. Our friends recently got a coffee table from here that was exactly what we're looking for. I’m happy they got it but also kind of jealous.
I find a pretty glazed square saucer ($0.50, plus another 25% off), an adorable panda mug ($1.00), and a mug painted with a lovely floral pattern ($0.50) but a chip on the lip. Doesn’t matter since these mugs will be pots.
10:40: Home and work, more research on how to do all the things. I get a meat stick and prep ramen. I am so cold‼ I wrap our living room blanket around me like a shawl. This was an Amazon gift last year from K. He searched “softest blanket” and said everyone recommended this one. It is indeed incredibly soft, and I love it so much. I’m shall walk around and sit like this. Thermostat says it’s 64 degrees. Hmm, maybe my body is just rebelling against adapting to lower temps.
12:40 I finally eat lunch. I got distracted by work. The ramen warms me up some, but my fingers and feet are still cold. It’s far too early for me to break out mittens, right? My new succulent’s plastic pot fits perfectly into the flower mug. Panda mug is less of a home run; it’s a large sphere but the opening is just a bit too small. I’ll just repot another plant directly into it. I replace the dining plate under the grass with the square saucer. I check my money tree. I tend to ignore it, as it does pretty well left alone. Its new leaves got so big!
1:30 I use Teams chat for the first time. A colleague tells me some people who received my earlier mass email were confused about a certain line and emailed her assuming a more positive future outcome. I send out a clarifying email that the news is indeed as bad as it sounds...and people are not happy about that now. I just feel guilty I can’t make things better.
4:00 The itchy bumps on my finger are multiplying. I have some isolated eczema. Years ago, it was all over my hand and severe, but with medication slowly receded and now pops up in small spots. A similar bump on my leg that keeps coming back (only when I scratch it…I know, I know). I put on medicated ointment.
4:20 Someone replied all to my clarification email, pointedly questioning our decisions. Yikes! I ponder how to respond, then decide to do that tomorrow instead, when I can fully refrain from being snarky.
I go repot my haworthia into the panda mug, which should be the last time I repot her. I’m doing this out on the porch, squatting over pots with a spoon and bag of dirt, and wonder if people are judging me. Another package out here, from my hometown friend. It says Edible Arrangements, ooh. K calls me as I start opening it, so I narrate the process for him. It’s strawberries dipped in chocolate! I eat one right away, so yummy. I text my friend thanks and eat more. Must save some, reluctantly, for K.
6:00 I do some clean up. I’ve been leaving dishes, wrappers, and such strewn about. Without K here, I’m less prompt because no one can see my shame. Mini brush to sweep crumbs and such off counters, then regular broom for the kitchen floor because I made it messy in just 2 days.
The cat is eating the grass!
6:30 I consider exercising. We made sandbags with contractor bags and lawn pebbles, but I'm not workouts. Before quarantine, I went to the gym 3x a week (starting last Sept) even in bitter winter. I really enjoyed feeling myself get stronger. Now I’m not nearly as disciplined. My partner is much better about it, even doing cardio in between lifting days. Maybe I’ll work out tomorrow.
Instead, I wash rice and Instant Pot it for dinner, then take a shower. I feel so warm afterwards! I’m determined to keep myself that way.
7:00 The cat joins me on the couch for some blanket kneading. She does her bass purr, which disturbed me when I first heard it because it was so strange and so deep that I thought it might be a distress sound. I hear it during pets, and sometimes she’ll sit far away from us and just rumble like that. Eventually dinner time for kitty, then for me. I eat a pork chop with rice and leftover mixed veggies. I put the rice in the fridge! I forgot several times and had to throw it away the next day. I know rice is cheap, but I hate wasting food like that. Some Animal Crossing after. One of my neighbors is moving out tomorrow :(
11:35 It’s so late. I do my nightly routine and go to bed.
Total $2.02
Day 3, Wednesday
8:15 am I finally get up and go through my morning routine. Putting on my ring is easier to remember when it’s out on a dish instead of hidden in a crowded basket. I feed kitty and start work. My boss responded to the reply all email yesterday evening. Whew! I do think that was better coming from her instead of me the newbie.
9:00 I look up how to access someone else’s calendar on Outlook, because I need to see my bosses’ schedule. Microsoft’s directions seem to apply to the online version, and other search results match it. I click around Outlook instead, and figure it out that way. I mist my prayer plant and eat a yogurt.
9:50 To the ReStore. I go in and out of the house 3 times because I forgot my keys, donation box, and phone. Rihanna's Skin comes on from my playlist as I drive. Yeees, I haven't heard this in a while and sing along enthusiastically.
I find 4 ramekins for $2.00. This will complete the set I picked up here before. K wants them for baking but doesn’t think he’d use them enough to justify a new set. I also nab a ceramic thing made for an unknown purpose ($0.50), to be a nice small pot.
10:35 Home, shrouded in the blanket as I type up research. Ramen again for lunch. I could bring it into work, but then my coworkers might judge and/or pity me for eating like a college student.
12:40 pm I get dressed for the office. Weather app says it's 70s outside, so I put on a light pink maxi skirt with a geometric pattern, a light orange/coral top with a floral print, and teal cardigan. I end up walking instead of driving since it's nice out. I immediately feel happier and refreshed! I think I’ve been grumpy from feeling so cold in the house. Like hangry, except…crumpy.
1:00 A sign outside a bakery says today’s special is carrot cake cupcake. Nooooo, I love carrot cake but I’m trying not to buy treats. But this bakery has such good cupcakes…I go in and buy one for $3.00. It’s difficult to resist these when they’re so cheap compared to prices in larger cities. I eat the cupcake at work and it is the perfect dessert.
1:50 The internet stops functioning as I'm writing up a form online to submit ): Instead, I call someone to break the bad news to since there's no email listed for them. I really dislike calling people I’ve never met, since I rely so much on expressions and body language. Several tea treks this afternoon.
4:00 I text a friend about helping me lift a dresser out of the garage later. I bought a lovely wood dresser for $150 from FB last month to replace our current dinky one, but it needs TLC. I’ve been procrastinating hard but am afraid this is the last week of nice weather, so want to fix it up now. Plus it can be a nice surprise for K.
4:30 As I’m leaving, some coworkers chat to me! I’m so happy – I’m a shy person at work, mostly because I feel like I have to absorb all the info possible and then I can start to say things, otherwise I’ll make a fool of myself. This shouldn't apply to general chatter, but somehow does for me. It’s really nice talking to them.
5:00 At home, NY driver’s license came in the mail. I feel so official now! Except, this isn’t a REAL ID and I thought I was getting one. The NY webpage says to bring more documents to the DMV for one one. I guess since I won’t be flying soon, not a big deal. And I can always use a passport, though I dislike carrying that unless really needed.
5:35 My friend comes over and we carry the dresser from the garage to the driveway. He points out that some of the backing is reinforced with staples (???) instead of nails. Ah well, this was cheap. I start off by sanding edges where the veneer is scratched or started to peel; harder to do precisely than videos show. Then a long, long time putting wood filler in those spots. It’s hard getting it to stick without bits falling off. Okay, not so sure how well this will turn out :/ I leave it to dry overnight, so tomorrow I can stain
7:00 After a hot shower, I put on my workout leggings that have a fleece lining. Not to workout, just for the warmth. Desperate times! I know that after winter, these temps will feel like beach weather. But right now I’m cold. I go feed the kitty. Then I remember I was supposed to send a form for work and do so, so very late :(
8:00 Dinner. Pork chop, leftover rice, defrosted corn. K and I chat as I eat. We call it a night early though. I finally get the dishwasher going; I left so many dirty dishes sitting around this week. I play Animal Crossing. I search for a new neighbor and pick the first one on a mystery island, a horse named Papi. He really likes nature, so I feel we’ll jive there.
9:00 A couple of friends text yes for a group video call next week. We know each other from grad school but are all in different states now. Many things have been happening for everyone, so I’m excited to toast to them!
10:00 I actually want to go up to bed this time, but the kitty is snuggled next to me. I’ve been petting her for at least 30 mins. But finally we go upstairs for the night. I scroll through subreddits before sleeping.
Total $5.94
Day 4, Thursday
7:45 I get up and do morning stuff, then feed the cat. I try to turn on my work computer but it does nothing until I charge it. Yogurt for breakfast, then burrito myself in the blanket for work.
9:50 ReStore break. I accidentally walk out in flip flops instead of sneakers but am too lazy to switch. Oh well, I’ll be that person in socks and sandals.
At the store, I immediately grab these beautiful blue glazed pots, labeled $4 for the set. There’s also a soft, pinkish white pillow. But it doesn’t fit colors I want for any room; nah, I’d regret it later. I find a pretty set of Japanese-style art, depicting varied pots and flowers. The frames are beat up though. I take a picture to send to K later to see if he likes them. But on my last circle about, the paintings have disappeared. That’s okay, someone else will enjoy them.
K might declare a pot moratorium when he gets home, as he’s threatened before. Hah, he’ll be using the car anyways so I can’t even go thrifting then.
10:55 Home and back to work. I get an email from Accounting that there’s a check for me. First one, woo! They told me it would be Thursdays, but I’m so used to Fridays that this was a surprise.
11:40 Hot ramen, mmm. While waiting for them to poof, I check my plants. I browse FB and subreddits while eating. Then upstairs to dress. Today, a navy and white triangle print blouse to pair with my black and white feather print pants. I also break out a nice pair of sneaker-like shoes, in grey suede.
1:45 Back in the office, many rounds of hot leaf juice. I pick up my paycheck, and Accounting confirms my next will be deposited. I also stop by HR to ask how I can set up Zoom meetings.
4:00 I drive to the credit union to deposit checks. They close too early, in my opinion. How do people who don’t have flexible workplaces find time to use them?
K recently added me to his account. My bank has no branch here, though I got them years ago specifically because they were national and I wanted access wherever I went in the US :/ I don’t like paying ATM fees, so K has been withdrawing cash if needed. I’m also not comfortable using a bank app out of paranoia that someone might steal my phone and siphon my account. I think my bank accounts and Social Security number are the only things the tech giants don’t have, so I guard them as my precious.
4:30 Home for more work in my blanket.
5:30 K and I chat. We decide to see if our friends are available for board games this weekend, and if not, watch a movie. I suddenly realize I didn’t defrost a protein for dinner, and even putting it out now won’t be enough time to unfreeze it. Nooo. I end our call to work on the dresser (but lie to him about why).
I put stain on a few samples of filler. I got it matched at a local hardware store, but not sure if the stain will look like its label image. Wait, the label says to leave the stain for 4-6 hours before using a 2nd coat…well, I can keep sanding. Except there's definitely too much wood filler on these spots, because I’m doing one corner for so long.
6:23 I go inside and eat leftover corn and a meat stick for dinner. I’m crumpy again. And sad this won't be done by the time K gets back. I decide to make a latte, likely a bad idea so late. But I want something cozy. I mix in cocoa powder and honey with it. We have a grinder, aeropress, and French press (for guests) but use Wegman’s beans and a cheap milk frother. Occasionally we get nicer beans at a local shop, and my partner eventually wants to upgrade to a real fancy grinder. The coffee set up captures well our spending habits.
7:00 The cat stole my half-eaten meat stick‼ She flees, but stops to eat her prize, so I snatch it from her clutches. K had asked me if she’d be unrecognizable when he gets back, and I think so. Very bold now. After I feed her, she goes downstairs and meows a lot. I will not be summoned, cat! XD I stay here until she’s back in the room, quiet, and then I go downstairs. I eat chocolate strawberries and browse FB and subreddits about plants, finances, and furnishing homes. I should read for the book club. Eh.
9:15 I find out online there’s Fall Festival on the main street on Saturday! I’m excited; I was visiting last year when it happened. There were hay bales and scarecrows and tractors and kids getting faces painted. I wasn’t sure they'd have it this year, but glad that local businesses will get a huge boost in sales.
I also remember we got a beautiful bouquet of dried flowers from there, now still our living room and only shed a bit during the year. Since they last for so long, I want a set for the guest bedroom.
9:30 I play Tetris. A couple of bad rounds, but I get 6th once! Pretty good. I cross some animals, and say hello to Papi. Then I go empty the rest of the dishwasher and load it again, and sweep up ramen bits. I don’t want all this to linger longer if I feel lazy tomorrow. K sometimes says, “Good job, past self!” out loud to acknowledge what he did in the past that make the present less stressful. I really like that, so now I try to approach things more that way.
11:25 I go to bed. But I have a throbbing caffeine headache, and my stomach feels hollow. Why did I do this to myself? I read some “messy” Money Diaries from the Drama Watch Roundup to tire out my brain. It takes a long time for me to fall asleep.
Total $4.32
Day 6, Friday
7:00 am I wake up needing to pee. Can't go back to sleep due to residual headache. I do my morning routine and feed the kitty. I have to boot up my work laptop. Its battery runs out so quickly; it’s a bit annoying that I won’t be able to go anywhere without the charger. Oh well. I start filling in a spreadsheet to organize what I’ve been researching.
I am blanket. Blanket is me. (Or is it I?)
I email my Boss about setting up a Zoom call for us and another person. Then tea time. I use a loose chai from Wegman’s. It’s really good; I’m glad their generic stuff tends to be decent quality.
9:50 To the ReStore. I almost forget my mask but luckily don’t. They’re strict about them, thankfully. I saw them kick out a man who tried to go in without one. He kept arguing that he had the right not to. Of course, and there are consequences to that. This is also a charity shop and volunteer run, so they probably care less about pissing off a few people. I feel bad for the businesses and employees who end up with potential losses from booting noncompliant customers. It’s not a dilemma I’d want to face.
Today I find a large peachy pillow, $3. Glad I didn’t get the other, since this fits better and is so soft. I also get two glass vases of similar height and shape but one has a vertical pattern ($1.00, with additional 50% off) while the other has a wavy pattern ($1.00, with additional 25% off). Close enough, for the guest bedroom flowers. And I finally drop off the box.
10:45 I reach Wegman’s to grab a few things. Two 10-pack meat sticks (12.29 each) and two 2-liter bottles of diet grapefruit soda ($0.75 each). I also look at the fish, since they stock fresh ones on Fridays and are usually sold out by evening. I love whole fish and would eat it every day if I could. I pick 2 porgies ($6.99/lb) and ask them to descale and trim the fish but keep the heads. I’ll get both fish heads tonight since K never eats them. I’m so excited for dinner!
More work at home. My boss CCs me on an email about me sent privately to her and few others. Her response is amazing and is a virtual mike drop. I appreciate her so much. I do a speedy lunch, ramen and soda. And speedy dressing: same pants as yesterday, sheer burgundy top, teal cardigan, the suede shoes. I finally bring my mug! It’s bigger so less tea trips.
2:00 Meeting with boss and another person our org works closely with. The prep I did is not useful, because the conversation turns in a different direction than expected.
4:15 I get home early and do last minute cleaning. K texted earlier that he should arrive by 6:00.
5:00 I haven’t heard kitty in a while, and get worried. I walk around calling her, and she meows in response, from our master bed. She rushes out once I open the door.
5:45 Finish work and take a shower. Kitty gets many pets in apology for accidenally imprisoning her. I manage to snip two of her nails, but she escapes before I can do the rest. Then the house alarm goes off. K is back! He says the house is chilly – okay I’m not going crazy XD He is skeptical that it’s truly 65 degrees in here and turns on the heat. The cat hides, shy again with K here. I tell him it’s probably his haircut. We unload the rental car and return it.
7:00 Dinner prep. I season the fish and wrap them in aluminum foil for the oven. This time I use salt, pepper, garlic powder, onion powder, paprika, and coriander. I chop up mushrooms to roast too.
The fish and veggies end up delicious! I do warn K about the little stomach bones. If we’re sharing one big fish, I split it into fillets and pick out all the bones myself, but we each have our own and I don’t feel like doing it twice. I get all the fish eyes, yum.
9:30 K tells me the news about Ruth Bader Ginsburg passing. A friend also texts me about it a couple of minutes later. I am so sad. She was such an amazing person and inspiring woman. I read an article detailing parts of her life I hadn’t known about before. This makes me even sadder, though.
10:00 We finish the strawberries together. K nods off during Adventure Time. I’m hit with a sense of déjà vu: this happened exactly, early on in our relationship. Sometimes history repeats itself in a cute way. We eventually go up to sleep. My mouth stings as I brush my teeth - the sore on the inside, near my lip, is getting worse. I've been trying not to irritate it too much since it's in an awkward spot, but that's clearly not working.
11:30 I’m still awake reading random things on my phone. So bad. I go to sleep.
Total $42.29
Day 7, Saturday
9:15 am Phone buzzes me awake. Friends confirm the Fall Festival plan.
10:15 I’m still in bed because warm. K offers to turn the heat up, but I’ll be fine. After I wash my face, I can’t find my towel so drip awkwardly over the sink until I remember one on a nearby shelf. K must have grabbed our dirty towels for laundry.
10:30 I put crepes in the oven to defrost. I wish I'd put parchment paper between layers when stacking, because it’s been annoying separating them.
K and I talk about the new health insurance cards, and what appointments I'll make. First will be Planned Parenthood, because I’m on my last pack of pills! The only time I wasn’t covered was the months after college graduation and before my job started. I worried so much that I’d have an accident and be buried in debt. Luckily didn’t happen. I also really appreciate when work pays into insurance, after having to pay the entire premium myself during grad school.
K browses the Nintendo shop and pulls up the Ori sequel. I do want it but think we should wait; $40 seems pricey and we have so many other games we haven’t started or finished. He tells me he did buy Hades on sale since we tend to play these types of games more. I really liked the trailer so glad he did.
11:30 I scroll online while I eat the crepes, watch K play Hades. I love the art, but not sure I’d be good. You battle many enemies, and you have to react fast. We switch and I play! It's challenging but not too much that I feel like I can’t figure it out. At some point, K finds socks on the ground and puts them on me since I’m too busy playing but still complaining about cold feet. Thanks K!
1:45 He reminds me we’re supposed to meet friends at 2:00. Today's outfit: green pleated maxi, a mustard top, and a magenta suede vest with long fringe on the shoulders and edges that reach my calves. One of my favorite statement pieces.
2:15 We find our friends and chat, waiting for the other ones. Apparently the festival was canceled, and instead there’s a small farmers’ market. Now I feel bad having asked them out for this – the cancellation wasn’t mentioned on the official webpage!
Our other friends get here and we check out the market. It smells delicious; there’s one stall with donuts, one with pretzels. K and a couple friends go for donuts. I find the dried bouquets vendor and request two with orange, pink, and purple-blue flowers. They cost $9 each, but K pays since I don’t have cash. We all decide to walk down the main street for fun.
4:00 I stop for $5 bubble tea. I get lavender with traditional bubbles (there are popping ones, but I think those are weird). It's yummy, enough flavor but not so much that I’m eating a candle. K and friends get ice cream, trying the fall flavors. Then we all part ways and go home. Another package at the door, with K’s name on it, but he’s not expecting anything. They’re cool wooden coasters with a laser cut outline of the city we met in! Turns out a friend sent it as a gift.
6:30 Dinner time. K baked chicken with cumin and other seasonings, plus rice and defrosted peas. We watch Adventure Time. It’s interesting to me how adult kids shows can be. There are incredibly sad/disturbing moments that would be completely missed by kids. During episodes I get text alerts from in my siblings' group chat. Adorable pictures of my cute niece, finally smiling instead of looking angry. For the rest of the night, K and I take turns playing Hades. He keeps getting further than me, but I’m not too behind!
9:30 Bed time. We’ll see if I can sleep early tonight.
Total $5.67
Weekly Total $69.97
Food + Drink = $46.89
Home + Health = $23.09
REFLECTION
I think I tend to buy little things during the week. In contrast, K tends to make bigger purchases of many items once or twice a month. It’s nice to see my spending be “normal” again, since for a few months I was spending a lot on furnishings and such. I do want to be better about buying less treats, and resist buying plants (though now that space near the windows is running out, less a problem). The resale market is good for calming my inner shopper. I don't feel like I’m missing out too much, because there’s so much out there that even if I don’t nab this thing, a similar thing will pop up later. So I'm okay being pickier about those purchases.

Just back from an epic week-long beer trip to San Diego for New Year's. Aside from perhaps Portland, San Diego has to be the most craft beer-obsessed and concentrated place I've ever been to. So I wanted to share some of my best discoveries.
During the trip, my SO and I visited 13 breweries/taprooms, and also had some scattered other beers at restaurants and brewpubs. Literally everyone had craft beer on tap. Heck, we even got a tasting flight at the San Diego zoo!
For context, I'm a Canadian from Montreal, and we can't get most of these beers on our side of the border. So we may have gone a little taster-crazy. Hey, you only live once, right?
Taprooms/Breweries
The taprooms/breweries we visited are mostly grouped by neighbourhood, 'cause we explored a new neighbourhood each day of our trip. In chronological order, we went to:

1. Bolt Brewery -- Little Italy -- this was the first place we visited, because it was down the street from our Little Italy-based hotel. We were tired from flying all day, and the time difference made it feel later than it was, but we still popped in for a taster flight on our first night in the city. Just because. Overall, I liked this place -- very chill, laid-back vibe (though TBF it was a Monday night). The beer was just average, though the Tropic Thunder IPA was nicely tropical, and the Dan Stouts was on nitro and VERY coffee.
   
2. Stone Brewing -- Liberty Station (for New Year's Eve) -- this was the granddaddy of craft breweries, and sort of our main motivation for the trip. I consider Stone to be the brewery that introduced me to craft beer, way back when I had my first sip of Arrogant Bastard Ale and realized beer could have actual flavour. It's been years since then, but I still consider them to be consistently one of the best, and had always wanted to visit their main brewery. Since we didn't have a car (and seriously, who drives to a brewery?), we didn't make it to the Escondido location. But we bought tickets to the Craft Beer NYE party at Liberty Station, which was fairly easily accessible by trolley and bus. I must say, I LOVED this location and all its beers. Sprawling expansive gardens, multiple rooms, a live band that really found its stride towards midnight, and amazing food and drink stations. As an added bonus, the party was 80s-themed, making for some people wearing awesome costumes. The beer highlights of my night were the Smoked Porter with Vanilla Bean, and the Spiced Unicorn Milk. It was a VERY good start to 2020 indeed.
   
3. Fall Brewing -- North Park -- Thursday, we took the day to explore North Park and its many breweries. There was no way we could possibly tackle them all, so we decided to focus on what we believed would be the Top 4. Fall Brewing was the first one we visited, just as the tasting room opened, so it was pretty quiet there. Nice vibe at the bar, friendly bar staff. Their flights are served on a thumbs-up tasting board. The highlights were the Goo Goo Muck IPA, which was hazy, orange and bitter, and the Loud, Dumb & Mean, a 13% imperial stout with brown sugar and coconut notes that was just plain dangerous.
   
4. North Park Beer Co. -- North Park -- felt more like a restaurant than a pure bar, though the kitchen hadn't opened yet by the time we arrived. The beer here was good, with some fun collaborations and some really chocolatey awesome concoctions. As a chocolate lover, this suited me fine. The highlight was Fudging the Numbers, a 12.3% imperial brownie stout with Tanzanian chocolate nibs and Madagascar vanilla. Sooooo good.
   
5. Original 40 -- North Park -- probably my favourite brewery in San Diego. Nice big space, plenty of board games, a friendly locals crowd who seemed to be happy to chat. All the beers we tried here were delicious. I particularly liked the Peaches for Free, a peach milkshake IPA. This is also where I had hands down the best beer of the week, the Zazu's Tutelage, a 12.8% pastry stout brewed in collaboration with Horus. Heaps of Madagascar and Uganda vanilla, aged cocoa nibs from Ghana and Ecuador, and -- oddly -- Cadbury Lions bars. ZOMG so good! This got an extremely rare 5/5 on Untapped from me. We actually chanced upon meeting the brewer, who was super nice and chatted with us for a while about the beer scene in San Diego. We wanted to find a way to take some of it home, but alas, it was a limited quantity beer and not available in any takeout format. Oh well, I'll have my memories. I'll definitely hightail it back to Original 40 next time I'm in SD.
   
6. Modern Times -- North Park (Flavordome) -- I'd had high hopes for Modern Times, but it probably suffered a bit coming at the end of a busy tasting day, and also right after the awesomeness of Original 40. Their beers almost seemed a bit like a letdown, though, to be fair, we only tried a few. They also brew coffee, and it seems pretty clear that their coffee beers are where they excel; the one I liked best was the City of the Dead coffee stout. But again, honestly, just average. We did have fun making friends with a couple of cute dogs who were hanging out in the brewery. I also liked their VHS videocassette bar decor.
   
7. Karl Strauss -- La Jolla -- The next day we took the bus up to La Jolla to see the cliffs, caves, sea lions, and so forth. The town itself felt very sleepy on a Friday afternoon, full of overpriced expensive boutiques catering to the type of tourists we are clearly not. But Karl Strauss was awesome. I know it's not their main location, but the La Jolla restaurant (we got there soon after it opened) was not crowded and very friendly and had a good vibe to it. The bartender was really generous with the splash pours. The beers were probably only average, by SD standards, but we both enjoyed the Wreck Alley Imperial Stout quite a bit. And oh, I realize this may be sacrilege with all the awesome authentic Mexican food in San Diego, but we had what were probably the best tacos of our trip here, too.
   
8. Stone Brewing -- Kettner -- Okay, so I'm counting Stone twice. But to be fair, we did visit two different locations. The Kettner location near Little Italy was much smaller than Liberty Station, but still had a nice taproom and garden, and was conveniently walking distance from where we were staying. Here, I finally got to try the Double Bastard, a beer I'd been wanting to get my hands on for a LONG time. It was everything I'd hoped for and more.
   
9. Half Door Brewing -- Gaslamp -- The only brewery we visited in the super-touristy Gaslamp district, after being advised that a few of the others were skippable. We stopped in here for lunch and a tasting flight. I enjoyed the location, a bit east of the Gaslamp's main hubbub. The food was also excellent. The beer was just okay, though I quite liked their blond stout called Gimmick Ale. They also had a very nice Belgian Tripel, which was a welcome break from all the hazy IPAs we'd been drinking all week.
   
10. Mikkeller -- Little Italy -- Just a quick preview here before our upcoming trip to Denmark next spring. The tasting room was small and very low-key, which we appreciated immensely. The tap list was dangerous, with most beers in the double digit ABV range. I had a couple of the top beers of my trip here, a side-by-side pour of the Beer Geek Vanilla Shake, and the BBA version of the same. They were creamy and awesome and the BBA version added some complexity and holy WOW. We brought a couple of cans of the Vanilla Shake home with us. They won't last long.
    
11. Pizza Port -- Ocean Beach -- on our final day, we made it up to Ocean Beach for some sun, sand, sushi, and, of course, beer. Pizza Port was our first stop, and it was good fun. They're a huge pizza restaurant with a surfer vibe and long communal tables with benches. We got a big pizza to share, and tried some beers. Actually, my favourites here weren't anything brewed by Pizza Port, but some of their guest tap pours. The Cinnamon Toast Crunch by Fat Head Brewery is a doppelbock that really tastes like cinnamon french toast. I immediately went for a second pour of this. And I got to taste the Tiger Millionaire by Modern Times, which is a Triple IPA that was on tap here (though, oddly, not at Modern Times). Sweet and dangerously awesome.
    
12. Belching Beaver -- Ocean Beach -- we decided we had to pay this one a visit just for the name. It was fun and quirky and filled with fun characters, like a guy carrying a parrot on his shoulder. They had perhaps the BEST Mexican chocolate peanut butter stout I have ever tasted in my life, the Super Viva. I also really enjoyed their Peche a la Mode, a very fruity peach sour ale that wen down smooth. Overall, Belching Beaver's beers were some of my favourites of the trip. Unfortunately, California's laws allowing babies and small children in tap rooms ultimately dampened the experience a bit -- a screaming baby ruined our vibe and we got up to leave (but not before buying a bottle of the Viva la Beavers stout to take home).
    
13. Two Roots -- Ocean Beach -- a relatively new (or rebranded) brewery and tasting room in Ocean Beach, where we headed after leaving Belching Beaver. The beers here were actually nothing all that special, but the atmosphere was calmer and more pleasant. Their Triple IPA, Scared Stupid, was pretty decent.
    

Top discoveries

• Definitely the Zazu's Tutelage from Original 40. Actually, all the beers from Original 40. But especially that one.
• Stone's Smoked Porter with Vanilla Bean, Spiced Unicorn Milk, and Double Bastard Ale.
• Mikkeller's Beer Geek vanilla shakes.
• North Park Beer Co.'s range of chocolate brownie and pastry stouts.
• The peanut butter and Mexican chocolate stouts from Belching Beaver.

Yes, you may be noticing a theme. Even with the Haze Craze and all the IPAs and hoppy ales we had all week, the standouts to me were the chocolate stouts, porters, and barrel-aged beers. My liver may need some time to recover.
Miscellaneous

• We didn't make it to Pure Project, alas, which was one of my only regrets. The main brewery was too far to access by transit (we didn't have a car), and the tasting room near Balboa Park was closed for New Year's Day on the day we were in the area. We did get to taste a couple of their beers on tap at other pubs, though. Fingers of Gold was on guest tap at Pizza Port, and is a really nice hazy IPA that actually managed to stand out from the gazillion other hazy IPAs out there. And at a brewpub in Coronado on New Year's Eve, we tried Milagro -- a nice light coffee vanilla stout, and Formless Shadows, a triple IPA that just about knocked our socks off.
  
• Some other breweries we never quite got to included Rip Current, Ballast Point, Mike Hess, and Societe. But hey, can't win 'em all.
  
• At the San Diego Zoo, a tasting flight from the small beer and food stand really helped alleviate the headaches we had from a post-NYE hangover and so many screaming children in strollers. Stone's Ghost Hammer IPA was awesome, but the real discovery there was the Cali Creamin' Creamsicle by Mother Earth Brewing, a cream ale that tasted like a vanilla creamsicle. Yum.
  
• I found that the willingess of SD brewpubs to both offer splashes to help decide, and also to (for the most part) offer tasting pours or flights, was MUCH appreciated. Obviously you can't get the full measure of a beer from a couple of sips. But as an 105lb woman, there's only so much alcohol I can responsibly consume in a day. And those 5oz pours of the higher-octane beers were definitely plenty.
  
• Being so close to Tijuana and the Mexican border meant, of course, excellent tacos and Mexican food everywhere, but also the accessibility of some of Mexico's craft beers. I tasted a very nice hoppy pale ale at a Mexican restaurant one night, the Juan Cordero by Cerveceria Insurgente. It wasn't particularly special, but it's a damn sight better than the endless Modelo or Corona that was all that was available on my last trip to Mexico.
  
• San Diego in general: Cool city, nice beaches, good weather, delicious food. Enjoyed it far more than I thought I would.
  
• I love how all the tasting rooms and bars are so dog-friendly. Puppies, puppies everywhere!
  

Thanks again to the members of this subreddit, who were so awesome at giving us recommendations for where to see and what to drink.

It’s currently snowing where I live which is rare for this area so everything is closing for the day (and probably tomorrow too, tbh.) My immediate instinct right now is to grab a giant bottle of red or Bailey’s to sit by the fire with while I get cozy with my family this weekend. I’m not and I’m sitting here with my hot cocoa, but in the last couple weeks of Sobriety Attempt 2020, I’ve been noticing what a minefield of triggers I walk through every day. Bad day? Drinks will make it better! Good day? Better celebrate with a drink Boring day? Drinks make things a little more satisfying! Is it hot? Frozen drinks! Fruity drinks! Is it cold? Coffee-based aperitifs! Warm, desserty drinks!
I knew I could justify a drink pretty much anytime, but I didn’t realize how many specific triggers I, personally, had. I have champagne on Christmas, my birthday, my friend’s birthdays (even if it’s just to share via Skype), the anniversary of my Gran passing, and before I perform. I have lager (and pumpkin-spice beer) in the fall. I have Bailey’s and mulled wine around Christmas. I have crisp, light beers and bright, snappy cocktails in warm weather. Beer always comes camping or to the beach with me. If I have the house to myself for the weekend, it’s Prosecco, usually straight from the bottle.
I’m never at risk of drinking shots or straight liquor (not a fan), but I’ve made all these insane, arbitrary rituals for the rest of my life that I’m only just noticing are everywhere and, if I don’t adhere to them, I’ve convinced myself I’m missing out or not honoring the moment or some noise. What a load of lies I’ve told myself.
Anyway, I’ve been on SD for a couple years (new account) and struggling with sobriety for 16 years now and I feel ridiculous for just now noticing how tightly I’ve clung to these little rituals.
I gotta get to work replacing each and every one.

SpaceX Navy The support ship Go Quest has left Port Canaveral ahead of the approaching Hurricane Matthew. It's heading to Jacksonville to shelter deeper inland and further away from the course of the approaching weather. Go Searcher, the fairing chase boat SpaceX uses occasionally, is trailing Go Quest by a few hundred yards, both in Jacksonville Harbor.
Wed Oct 5th 08:25 EDT Go Quest departed Port Canveral. Thu Oct 6th 01:30 EDT Go Quest arrived at Jacksonville. Thu Oct 6th 09:40 EDT Go Quest and Go Searcher arrive at Green Cove Marina / Bulkhead Road Wharf. Mon Oct 10th 21:52 EDT Go Quest and Go Searcher departing Jacksonville to return to Port Canaveral. Mon Oct 11th 19:03 EDT Go Quest and Go Searcher return to Port Canaveral. Overhead of the ships docking: https://imgur.com/a/0fJA8 Ironically Jacksonville will catch the full force of the storm, the surge will be 7 feet to 11 feet, risking the moorings of any boats which don't compensate for the water rise.
Go Quest location: http://www.marinetraffic.com/en/ais/home/shipid:450521/zoom:10 Go Searcher location: http://www.marinetraffic.com/en/ais/home/shipid:426008/zoom:10
The ASDS Of Course I Still Love You (OCISLY) is staying in place as it's very heavy and low riding in the water. It can actually fill itself with ballast and ride out any weather. It is however likely to have been towed to a basin which isn't in the main channel so that it is better protected from the storm surge.
SpaceX will lower the boom for the yellow crane which lifts the returned boosters onto land. They will also clear the port of all items in readiness for 130mph+ winds. With their new building a few hundred yards away it'll provide a better location to store wharf side items like cherry pickers and generators.
As of 1am on Thu 6th oct Port Canaveral is in lock-down with all boats moored to a dock, most of the tugs are sheltering in the lee of the East Basin / Trident Turning Basin. The Pilot boats are at the far end of the port at the marina near the cruise terminals.
If Hurricane Matthew disturbs the shoreline and ocean bottom a great deal it could fill in the Canaveral Barge Canal which is the deep water channel leading into the Port's entrance. The Port has been dredging this channel for a long time and it would significantly affect shipping if it was damaged, including SpaceX's water operations.
Port in lockdown: http://imgur.com/a/f0Xw9 Orlando Sentinel article on the Port and SpaceX equipment
SpaceX Pads We've seen pictures of the pads (SLC-40 and LC-39A) in the last few days with some things still to be done. The burnt out Strongback on SLC-40 is strong in one direction to lift the Falcon 9s, but laterally it'll be at risk of toppling. This may be a major task as to date SpaceX has worked at the pad with it still raised. Update: Reports are it's been slowly dismantled by SpaceX and at last viewing the Strongback was almost gone. This would have been expedited this week. The tent at LC-39A which is covering the launch stand will be dismantled and cached inside the SpaceX Horizontal Intergration Facility (HIF).
Eye of the hurricane will impact Cape Canaveral at 6am Fri Oct 7th. Projected water levels over the pads https://imgur.com/a/RLR7s Visual of land covered in 6 feet of water from surge http://imgur.com/a/wu4p7 With water levels of 3 to 6 feet deep, there is significant concern for the boosters in the SpaceX HIFs. Also with winds expected to gust to 140mph, the large buildings such as the VAB, SMARF and the HIFs are all in critical danger. Designed wind limits for the buildings at KSC Friday announcement: KSC Damage Assessment and Inspection teams to inspect all facilities on Saturday and establish Return To Work timelines that afternoon. KSC is now in a Weather Safe state as the wind has dropped below 40 knots.
Brevard County (contains Cape Canaveral)
The worst weather will be 6am - 12 noon on Fri Oct 7th 8pm Thu Oct 6th Wave heights are 6 feet. 9s dominant period. 9pm Thu Oct 6th Wave heights are 6 1/2 feet. 9s dominant period. 10pm Thu Oct 6th Wave heights are 7 1/2 feet. 8s dominant period. 11:30pm Thu Oct 6th Wave heights are 8 1/2 feet. 9s dominant period. 1:00am Fri Oct 7th Wave heights are 9 1/2 feet. 11s dominant period. 3:30am Fri Oct 7th Wave heights are 12 1/2 feet. 13s dominant period. 3:50am Fri Oct 7th Wave heights are 13 1/2 feet. 13s dominant period. 5:00am Fri Oct 7th Wave heights are 13 feet. 14s dominant period. 6:00am Fri Oct 7th ----- Front edge of hurricane eye has reached Cape Canaveral https://imgur.com/a/mk71b Winds of 102mph reported at USAF wind tower Wave heights are 11 1/2 feet. 13s dominant period. 6:30am Fri Oct 7th ----- KSC reports no major damage but power outages have been observed. Wave heights are 10 1/2 feet. 13s dominant period. 9:00am Fri Oct 7th Wave heights are 8 feet. 11s dominant period. 10:00am Fri Oct 7th Wave heights are 9 1/2 feet. 12s dominant period. 11:00am Fri Oct 7th Wave heights are 8 feet. 13s dominant period. 1:00pm Fri Oct 7th Wave heights are 9 feet. 12s dominant period. 3:30pm Fri Oct 7th Wave heights are 7 feet. 13s dominant period. 5:00pm Fri Oct 7th Wave heights are 6 feet. 12s dominant period. 6:00pm Fri Oct 7th Wave heights are 5 1/2 feet. 11s dominant period.
Brevard county, (enclosing KSC and CCAFS), is under a mandatory evacuation order https://twitter.com/BrevardEOC/status/783794113518919681
NASA Kennedy Space Center is shutting down https://twitter.com/NASAKennedy/status/783687689149308932
The CCAFS is also in the path of the storm and nominally subject to mandatory evacuation. Non essential staff have been released at 11am Wed 5th Oct, evac of staff and families commences at 3pm Wed. The essential specialist crews will remain and ride out the storm. The base is currently in HURCON II readiness level. http://www.patrick.af.mil/News/Article-Display/Article/964651/45th-space-wing-enters-hurricane-condition-ii http://www.patrick.af.mil/News
Timeline of what to expect as the storm approaches, hits and passes http://www.floridatoday.com/story/weathehurricanes/2016/10/06/hurricane-matthew-timeline-what-expect/91701070/
There will be a real danger of post-storm attacks as people wade through flood waters after all of the wetland caiman gators have been pushed out into the surrounding houses and streets. People need to take extreme care when walking in water of any depth. Additionally the pit vipers and rattle snakes from the wetlands will take refuge in any available infrastructure including houses and sheds.
Storm Characteristics NWS projected storm path 5pm Thu Oct 6th NOAA wind speed projections 8pm Thu 6th Oct NOAA storm surge levels predictions NOAA prediction explanation NOAA Advisory 5am EDT Fri Oct 07 2016 (text) NOAA resources Extensive weather imagery and data http://www.spaghettimodels.com Merritt Island automatic weather station https://www.windytv.com/station/AR909?33.669,-71.873,5 Projected landfall is at Cape Canaveral The current storm surge prediction for Cape Canaveral area is 6 to 9 feet above the ground (depending on the ground altitude). Rainfall will be 6 to 12 inches, 15 inches in some locations. Max predicted sustained wind predictions are now lowered from 140mph to 120mph. Tornadoes have been predicted along the Eastern Florida coast. The weather will reach Florida early on Thursday.
Live Data Periscope of KSC by Jeff Piotrowski https://www.periscope.tv/w/1ypKdoqLzALxW Youtube Livestream@ Cocoa Beach by StormChasingVideo https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nuvf3A5cLe4 Reddit Live thread, constant updates https://www.reddit.com/live/xpidtdeqm42u/
Articles http://www.orlandosentinel.com/weathehurricane/os-hurricane-matthew-port-20161005-story.html https://www.wunderground.com/blog/JeffMasters/once-again-a-cat-4-storm-potentially-disastrous-matthew-rolls-toward- https://gizmodo.com/hurricane-matthew-is-a-nightmare-scenario-for-kennedy-s-1787471900 http://spaceksc.blogspot.com/2016/10/matthew-blows.html http://spaceksc.blogspot.com/2016/10/matthew-blows-part-2.html NSF KSC Updates thread https://forum.nasaspaceflight.com/index.php?topic=41394.0
Aftermath https://blogs.nasa.gov/kennedy/2016/10/07/matthew-approaching-ksc-no-major-damage-reported-yet/ http://www.floridatoday.com/story/tech/science/space/2016/10/07/ksc-cape-canaveral-dodged-bit-bullet-matthew/91744112/ http://spaceflightnow.com/2016/10/07/hurricane-matthew-passes-by-cape-canaveral-coastline/ SMAB siding damage. SpaceX processes Dragons here http://imgur.com/jEbfei5 NSF thread on SMAB https://forum.nasaspaceflight.com/index.php?topic=34516.0 NASA Kennedy Flickr album of damage https://www.flickr.com/photos/nasakennedy Helicopter flight around KSC https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vzj2_hc_Epc http://www.businessinsider.com.au/spacex-building-hurricane-matthew-damage-2016-10 https://blogs.nasa.gov/kennedy/2016/10/11/kennedy-leaders-report-on-impact-of-hurricane-matthew/ NASA KSC media event https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wuzu3jhlBaE
Be safe all in the area. Donate to the Red Cross if you can, especially for the poor and under resourced people in the Carribean where they are currently experiencing the full effects.

I'm on mobile but I'll try and fix every mistake but there may be some that slip through the cracks.
Ok, a little backstory. I'm in my school's marching band, and we went to Florida to march in the Walt Disney World Parade. We went to Disney World, Epcot, Animal Kingdom, Hollywood Studios, Cocoa Beach, and Disney Springs, and I'm currently on my way to Universal Resort. With the exception of this event, I've been having a great time.
OP: Me (Third Person) F: Friend EM: Entitled Mother EB: Entitled BT DB: Disney Bro
Me and F were at Hollywood Studios, and we were on the Rock n Rollercoaster (An Aerosmith themed rollercoaster) and for those who haven't been to Hollywood Studios, the line for the coaster is VERY long, like 100+ minute wait long.
So at this point, me and F are about halfway through the line at this point, and we are hot (We are originally from Iowa and weren't quite used to the 70+ degree weather). So we were sitting on our phones, doing what teenagers do, and just trying to kill time.
Enter EM and EB.
EM was about 10 people behind us, and she comes up to us (By cutting everyone behind us).
EM: "Hey, can my son play your phone?"
Me: "Um... No, sorry, I can't do that. I don't even know who you are."
EM: "Why not? That kid has a phone, and I've heard you talking to him! Just share!"
Me: "I'm sorry, but how do I know you won't run out with my phone? I have very private and important things on it."
EM: "Ugh, it's just a PHONE! What could you POSSIBLY have that is so important!"
Sidenote: I have a few pictures of my late father who passed away unexpectedly in late 2017, which is 90% of what I mean't by "important things."
Me: "It's none of your business. Bottomline, you can't have my phone."
EB: "Mommy, I want that!"
EM: "You will honey."
EM drops her purse (Seemingly on accident) and goes to the Cast Member (Disney's employees for the uninformed). This is where DB comes in.
EM: Here's the THUGS I was talking about!"
Me and F: "What?"
EM: "See, there's my purse! Right next to them!"
Me: * Visibly angry * "What the hell are you on about? You dropped your purse!"
EB: * Crying at this point * Mommy, Im booooooored!!
EM: "These neanderthals even took my son's toy, arrest them!"
DB: "Alright, ma'am, I'll go get the officers."
My heart drops at this point, I thought he believed her and I was going to be arrested. I have squeaky clean record and my parents would be PISSED if they heard I got ARRESTED.
EM: "This is a lesson boys: Respect your elders!"
EM does that weird pose superheroes do, with their hands on there hips in this, "I won and I'm great."
EM tries to take my phone out of my hand, saying "I won't need it in prison!"
DB: "Alright ma'am, please step away."
EM is delighted, until she turns around, with no cops in sight.
EM: "Wheres the cop?"
DB: "Ma'am, I've heard reports from other sections of the park about a disrespectful women with a young boy who fits your description harassing multiple guests around the park."
EM: "Untrue!"
DB: "Even if that wasn't, I checked the cameras, and you clearly drop your bag, and they didn't even lay a finger on it."
EB: * crying *
EM: "My son is crying! Arrest these criminals, and let me through the line! You've wasted enough of my time!"
DB: * Calls in security *
EM: "Thank you!"
EM and EB start to cut through the line when they're stopped by DB.
EM: "What?! That was part of the deal, wasn't it?"

• Security shows up and starts to escort her to the park entrance *

EM is escorted out of the park, yelling profanities on top of EB crying.
I took a sigh of relief and started talking to DB. He's really into videogames and we exchanged Discord usernames. No sign of EB so far, and I shouldn't have any other issues.

Five short stories I wrote for Hell's Kitchen Sink, featuring Atina LeRoux, Dane Larson, Queen Betty, Gene of the Sisters, and Bella, AKA War.
Available here: https://hellskitchensink.com/2018/01/03/carols-part-1/ and for the second half: https://hellskitchensink.com/2018/01/07/carols-part-2/ or just below. The story as a whole won't fit into one post, so I'll post the second part here on Reddit in a couple of days.
All I Want for Christmas is You
Four months.
My eyes flicked to the front door, as the party continued.
Four months.
“Hey, Atina!” The fairy smiled, a cocktail in one hand. He must have raided my liquor cabinet, which was fine, because I’d been trying not to drink. For four miserable months when the weather and waning sunlight made me desperate for a drink. “Great Christmas Eve party!”
“Thanks, Sir O’Malley.” I smiled.
“Now, about a pact-“
“Sorry, I need to keep circulating. Enjoy the party! Have some popcorn!” I slipped away from him with grace that just barely avoided being rudeness, moving among the crowd. I was grateful to see Li Fang Fen standing in the midst of a crowd of some of the younger undead- Which meant they started at twice my age, and moved up from there. “Hello, Li.”
“Good evening, darling. Beautiful party!”
“Well, you know how it’s been.” I smiled. “Been a good year. When you’re experiencing good times…”
“You have to share them,” she said, and smiled. “How’s Roy been?”
“He had to go visit family,” I lied, smoothly. “Should be back some time soon.”
“He didn’t make the time for Christmas? The cad.” She winked. “I’ve dumped men for lesser abandonments.”
“Hah,” I said, instead of laughing.
It had been four months since he’d left. It had been at the height of the weird dreams back in September. I hadn’t heard anything from him since then. Meanwhile, the United States had accepted a refugee population of fish-people in the waters off of Long Island. It had dominated the 24 hour news cycle for a full week, and then the election had gotten heated about something, and they’d been relegated to the human interest stories. A brand new race of fish-people with human DNA who claimed to use gods as tools, and the media’s attention had jumped to a story about someone saying something racist.
Atlantis was real, and people wanted to know what the Atlantean Queen was going to wear for Christmas. That was all kinds of depressing.
“I still believe it’s a fluke. The Atlanteans, for their odd appearances, are still very essentially human. They don’t feed- Oh, hello, Atina.”
Lady Ann Willing smiled warmly as I approached. She stood with the elite of the Undead of the city- I recognized Dean Morton, Edwin Link, and Tadodaho. I bowed my head politely. “Good evening, everyone. Discussing going public?”
“Somewhat,” said Edwin, rolling his eyes. “A lot of old habits die hard. And secrecy, well…”
“Mmmm. I could take or leave it,” said Tadodaho, the spectral Onondogan grimacing, though more out of habit than actual anger. He had resting ghoul face. “If people cared to look at the world around them, the truth would become clear to them in no time. As it stands, they are blind to the truth of their world because they do not understand what questions to ask, which figures to trust. I might care more about that if…”
The conversation continued on, as my eyes drifted back towards the door.
I’ve lived most of the last ten years on my own. For a week, a week, I lived with Roy directly. My boyfriend, spending every day with me. Coming home to find there were meals waiting for me, having him embrace me whole-heartedly every night, and… other things. It was wonderful. And then he disappeared.
He was something very few people understood. I didn’t even really know what he was. He made a lot of wild claims, and I would dismiss them all if not for the time he beat up a goddess in front of me.
“Atina?”
I shook my head, and stiffened slightly. Chaac and Jenny stood there. Jenny was the one who’d addressed me, but Chaac was watching me very closely. She was the goddess who had been beaten. A Mayan Camazotz, a form of vampire so old, so powerful, and so rare that she’d been capable of threatening the entire city. The only two Camazotz in existence were standing in front of me. “Yes?”
“I wish to speak with you,” murmured Chaac. “Just the two of us. About a matter that concerns the two of us.”
I nodded, and the two of us stepped into the front yard, below the skeletal tree growing out of the small, terraced lawn. Its branches shivered under the slow snowfall, the wet snow piled up almost comically thick on even the thinnest twig. My breath fogged in the cold air; hers did not. “How have you been, Chaac?”
“At loose ends,” she said, unsmiling. “My life lacks meaning. It has many restraints, but where to go from here remains a terrifyingly broad choice… I do not know, Atina. It is unpleasant to be without a purpose. And your guardian has disappeared.”
“And you’re going to make me pay for what I did to you?”
“No,” she said, shocked. “Never, Atina. My purpose was awful. It was a self-destructive madness that I held onto. You forced me to let go of it. That hurt, but it was for the best. My concern is for you.” She was silent for a moment, watching me. “You make enemies, Atina. Almost compulsively. You have been very protected for the last year by his presence, passive though it was. The knowledge, among your enemies, that there was something about you. Something that could humble me. That has kept you safe. But there is only so long until someone foolish, or arrogant, or ignorant, prods you to test if the defenses still stand.”
“I’ve got protection,” I said, my eyes flicking to the house. “Thank you, though.”
“Do you know where he is?”
I didn’t answer her. Chaac’s expression became curiously sympathetic, so I said, “Look, he’ll be back.”
“Faith is a wonderful thing. As is love.” She was quiet for a moment. “Can you love something like that?”
“You’re the ancient goddess, you tell me.” I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering a bit. “Why do you even care?”
“I suppose that’s a good question.” She looked to one side. “It’s… nostalgic. Watching a young woman, waiting for her man to come back from a dangerous journey.”
“About being at loose ends,” I said, now desperate for a change of plans. “You hear that song?”
She tilted her head, frowning. “The one playing inside? I don’t know it.”
“All I Want For Christmas is You. There’s a phenomenon in the US where most Christmas songs were made when the Baby Boomer generation were young. This song’s weird, because it became a huge Christmas hit starting in 1994. It’s one of the few songs that’s managed to break through that seemingly impassable barrier.”
“Your metaphor is elusive to the point of outright obfuscation, Atina.”
“You think that things are over. That there’s no time to do anything else. The thing is, there’s always time for a new path. Take up a hobby, find a romantic interest in someone, maybe go travelling, start a damn soup kitchen. Choose yourself a goal. The world is full of things. If you can’t decide on one, flip a damn coin. New Christmas songs happen all the time.”
She smiled softly. “A silly point. But a good one, nonetheless. Good night, Atina. I hope he comes back soon.” Her eyes danced wildly for a moment. “Your dragon.” I watched as she stepped back inside, rejoining the crowd, and looked out across the icy night, the stars twinkling in a sky as clear as glass.
“He’s not mine,” I whispered softly, and the only sign that I had spoken was the small wisp of condensation even now drifting away and tearing apart.
Over the course of the next couple of hours, the party drifted apart. The siren call of home. Jack Knife, the itinerant serial killer knife, was the only one left in the house, curled up in the back room with a cup of cocoa in her hands, staring out at the snow drifting down. She had a wool blanket curled around her, one of the old heavy German wool beach blankets my father had used when we went out to the seashore. I studied it, and felt a melancholy building.
How long had it been since I’d been to the shore? Sitting by the beach? Fire crackling in a pit of sand, roasting marshmallows? What would I do for that?
But it wasn’t really the beach I wanted. I could do that any time. It was the nostalgia of being a child, of not knowing what was out there, of having all the possibilities in front of me.
“Do you need anything, Jack?”
“No,” she said, her voice soft as she stared out at the snow. “Thank you, Atina. Merry Christmas.”
I was quiet for a moment, and smiled to myself. She was looking better, a bit less broken up. “Merry Christmas, Jack.”
“I, uh…” She looked over her shoulder, embarrassed. “I didn’t get you anything for Christmas. I considered stabbing someone, but-”
“Not stabbing someone is all I need for Christmas,” I said, softly, a grin on my face. She smiled back. We both knew she’d been joking- My gift to her was that she could make those sort of jokes. “Sleep tight, Jack.”
I lay in bed, and went to sleep, wishing there was someone warm next to me.
There was a rumble of waves.
My eyes snapped open as a cold wind blew across my face.
The waves rumbled across Indian Wells. My eyes flickered across the beach. It wasn’t the most unique of beaches, but every sand dune, every inch of it, had been carved into my memory as a child. Out on the tip of Long Island, the southern edge. There was no mistaking this place. It was night time, and the moon was a crescent sliver, hanging on the edge of the sky. It was tremendously dark, and my heart shook. Was this an echo of those damned dreams? The seashore, and the darkness-
Light erupted, as flame caught on a set of logs arranged carefully in a small pit of sand. And there, sitting across from me, dressed in his usual understated casual clothing, was Roy.
Roy was not what one would call conventionally handsome. Hell, he was shorter than me, although most people were. He could easily be called skinny, and that mustache and chin-scraggle were not doing him any favors. It was all part of the appearance he affected. I suspected he could choose exactly how he looked, and like most men, he didn’t care about his appearance.
“You know, even the little romantic gestures seem designed to scare the hell out of me.” I waved an arm at the beach. “I’m pretty sure I didn’t tell you about the times my family spent here.”
He didn’t answer me, simply taking out a bag of marshmallows, and a pair of long sticks. I sat up, pulling the blanket tighter around me, the thick German wool blanket settling over my shoulders.
“Did things… go alright? With whatever the hell you were doing?””
“Of course. I’m sorry I was away.” He looked up at me, his eyes flashing. “You were safe, you know. I am never far.”
“Thanks, stalker,” I said, smiling wryly. “Stop sitting there like you’re mister lone badass. I’m cold over here. Warm me up.” I gently patted the sand next to me. “Please?”
He grunted, and stood up, circling around the fire. The flames whipped wildly as he stood between them and the wind, before taking a seat beside me. I wrapped my arms around him, and he was like a furnace, almost painfully hot to the touch, breaking the wind and keeping me warm. “You missed me,” he said, almost an accusation.
“Of course I did,” I murmured.
“What would you do if I left, and never returned? I could.”
“I’d miss you, and probably die. Are you going to leave?”
“How can I?” He asked, and shook his head. “With a shackle like that around me.”
“You don’t have to care about what I think,” I said, grinning. “We both know the only shackles you’re wearing are the ones you made yourself.” I looked down at the fire. “Thank you for being here.”
“I am always within reach. All you had to do was sacrifice your dignity and beg me to be here.”
“Pride against Pride, huh?” I grinned. “You think you’ll win that?”
“I already did,” he said, grinning smugly. “When you whispered all alone on the yard.”
“That’s really sweet. And really stalker-y.” And really sweet, I thought to myself, leaning in a little bit harder, feeling him support me effortlessly. I closed my eyes. “How are we getting home?”
“The same way we got here. Don’t worry, Atina. For just a few short hours…” He smiled. “You don’t have to worry.”
And so I didn’t. I had everything I wanted.
—
Do You Hear What I Hear
“Boss, it’s nearly eight.”
I looked up from the great raft of paperwork. All the little gears that kept the largest police department in the world working smoothly. The Atlantean delegation to the UN was transferring members and there had been a credible threat against them by a human nationalist group; Some cop had shot a guy in Staten Island which had both the mayor and the police unions breathing down my neck trying to push me to one side or another; And Trump was visiting his wife, which would throw midtown into chaos and almost certainly result in someone getting violent. Hector stood in the doorway. “Right, right- I’ll finish up in another hour, and get some sleep-”
“It’s Christmas Eve,” he said, softly, and the words struck me like a hammer.
“Right,” I said softly. “Fuck it. The paperwork will all be here in the morning.” I set down the jar with my eye floating on it on top of the stack of papers, marking where I had been, and stood up, walking to the door.
“You’ve got to learn to delegate better,” said Hector. “Ain’t the commissioner’s job to be crossing every T and dotting every I.”
“Yeah, I know. Transition team is coming along. I’ll get the hang of this stuff, probably just about the same time I’m forced to step down.” I rested my hand on my hip, where Tonfa waited. There was a pulse of affirmation, a warmth that bled off of him, and it made me feel a bit stronger. “Bastet’s been calming things down in town, but we’ve still had a lot of weirdness. The bank robbing by those masked guys that grabbed every ingot of platinum and left the rest, the kidnapping cult, that weird albino guy that was harassing people on the subway-”
“He was just a regular hobo, boss.”
“Well, sure. But he was still weird. Mayor’s been demanding an explanation, and he keeps focusing in on the Atlanteans.”
“This town was weird long before they showed up.”
“I know that, and you know that, but the public doesn’t acknowledge it.” I growled. “Fucking morons.”
He patted my shoulder companionably as the two of us stepped out into the night. It was raining. Light, spitty, just the wrong side of freezing. It was going to be a wet Christmas. I caught a snatch of some song, and turned my head momentarily, trying to follow it. The wind snatched it away, and I sighed. The golden eye in the open socket was cold as hell in this weather, which was both a bit uncomfortable, and strangely calming. “What’s the matter, boss?”
“Just… a lot of memories.” I looked up as we approached the pub. We walked in. Marco stood inside, with a round of drinks. I’d stopped drinking as much, but I wasn’t a full teetotaller. And besides, it was Christmas Eve.
“Do you remember Jillian?” asked Hector, as the four of us- Me, Marco, Hector, and Tonfa- sat around the table, each of us with a drink in hand.
“Jillian?” Said Marco, an eyebrow raised. “She was the one who joined before me, yeah?”
“Yeah,” I said, softly. “She was the toughest bitch I’ve ever met. Headbutted a monster, once. It grabbed her head, tried to bite her face, she broke its teeth with her forehead. Most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. She was a hell of a fighter. Gave John a good run for his money.”
“How’d she… retire?” asked Tonfa, his voice soft. The question was rhetorical. He’d been there, on my hip.
“There was this thing,” I said. “People were losing pets. Then a kid went missing. We went down into the sewers, tracked it down into its lair. She saw the kid, lying there in the detritus, still breathing. She ran forward, and the thing was lying in wait. Ambush predator. It tore through her femoral artery, she bled out right after breaking the thing’s neck. Died asking if the kid was okay. And you know what?” I took a long drink, feeling the cold, bitter beer wash away some of the helplessness. “He was.” I burped. “Kid’s going to college, now.”
We all sat in silence for a minute or two. My eyes flickered over to the wall, where we kept the portraits. It was an incomplete list, for obvious reasons, but I’d done my best to find out who belonged there. All the cops in the NYPD who had fallen while fighting the supernatural. Either dead, or retired, or discharged because they couldn’t handle it after what they’d seen. Jillian was up there. John was up there, victim of a serial killer with the power to get into people’s heads in a serious way. He was retired, now, living on the Maine coast. And my dad was up there.
I’d never found out what, exactly, killed him. It didn’t matter what exactly was responsible, because I couldn’t just kill the monster responsible and call it a day. I wanted to make the world a better place. But didn’t everybody?
I raised my glass, and took another drink.
“Me and Hector have been thinking about making an official memorial somewhere,” said Marco. “Something, you know. Classy. A way for people to know what happened to the cops who died doing the right thing.”
“People,” I said, “don’t care. By and large, people don’t really want to be reminded about all the people who die just to let them eat cheap food and crap and watch bad TV. They just want to go through life without being hassled. Most people, when they realize what people have sacrificed for them, feel like their life is a waste. I think it’s better if people don’t know. If they can just pretend we don’t exist, that the monsters don’t exist. That’s why I do what I do-”
The door opened. There was a blast of cold wind, and a snippet of the same song I’d heard before. It was tremendously familiar. I turned.
John stood in the door. Gray-haired, his face lined, but smiling. “Hey, everyone.”
“John!” said Hector, grinning as he stood up. “You made it!”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m just here for the drink.” He paused for a moment, looking at the wall. “Seriously? You chose that photo for me?”
“You look good in that photo, man,” said Marco, grinning as he walked over to the bar, grabbing another beer and setting it in front of John. We all shuffled around to make room for a fifth person as John leaned over heavily on the table, resting his chin on his hand. “So, how’s retired life?”
“Dull as dishwater. Just the way I like it. Planting trees, watching them grow, whittling, fishing. All the stuff that makes for some real fun.” He smiled. “You didn’t really think I was going to miss Christmas Eve, did you? We retire to get more chances to bitch and remember the past.” He sighed, and smiled.
“Still having nightmares?” I asked, softly.
“Still having nightmares,” he said, and shrugged. “But who isn’t, these days?”
“Hey, John. What do you think? Should we do a memorial? Something public, something for people to know what we did?”
“Nah,” he said, softly. “If people knew about these things- What good would it do? It’d terrify them. I grew up during the Cold War. People knew that they might vanish in atomic fire, and it warped them. Terrified them. People deserve better than to know they live in a nightmare.” He took another swig of beer. “You know that song, Do You Hear What I Hear?”
“My dad used to love that song,” I said, softly.
“Written during the Cuban Missile Crisis. Pleading for the world not to end. Begging people to not just burn everything to the ground.”
“Shit,” I murmured. “That makes the song a lot less cheery. I thought it was just a standard Christmas carol.”
“Yeah,” said John, softly. “The fewer people know, the better.”
The radio went quiet for a moment as one song finished, and then another one started.
“Well,” I murmured, as Do You Hear What I Hear started, in the low and crooning tones of Bing Crosby. “Speak of the devil.”
A star, a star. I closed my eyes, and listened to the song. There was the sound of the door opening, and closing, and another gust of cold air filled the room.
“Oh, good, you’re all here.”
I turned, and stared at Betty. Bastet. The cat. She stood with a hand on one hip, a large trenchcoat wrapped tight around her, looking utterly miserable, her ears flat against her head. Her ears were out. “Betty, your goddamn ears are showing.”
“Like there’s anyone to see it,” she grumbled. “Stupid inclement weather. Why did you humans ever leave the savannahs? You’re no more suited to this frozen moonscape than I am.” She shook her head once, combing her fingers through her hair. “Horace is having a Christmas party tomorrow. You’re all invited. He insisted you come.”
“Shit,” said John. “Kid’s still going, huh?”
I smiled. “A party… A home-cooked meal sounds good, I’ve got to admit.” I smiled at Tonfa. “No offense.”
“Not at all, it’d be nice to not have to cook.” He winked, and Betty groaned.
“Yes, yes. I need to go get home before I freeze to death and make Horace feel excruciatingly guilty.”
“Hey, Betty,” said Marco. “John and Dane both think that it’d be a bad idea to do a memorial for the people who die fighting the supernatural. That it’d be depressing or scary, or that people just wouldn’t care.”
Bastet let out a soft snort, her tail flicking once, her hands on her hips as she stepped forward, leaning lightly on John, making the man stiffen. “People need to know these things. They must be made aware of the sacrifices made for them. It may make them uncomfortable, or unhappy, but that is because it shames them. It reminds them that they could be doing the same, that they should be doing the same. If a few more people were willing to take that weight on their shoulders, Horace and you five wouldn’t have to work nearly so hard. People need to know, to be reminded that they’re not doing anything, so they can at least be grateful.” She grinned at me. “Why do something grand and noble, if nobody knows that you’re doing it?” She turned, and opened the door. “That’s why Horace is making you a meal.”
Then she was gone, as the song kept playing. I stared after her for a long few seconds, and felt Tonfa’s arm slide around me, warm and comforting, his other arm going around my waist, squeezing me gently. I relaxed into his grip, and felt better. There was something about talking to Betty that was always deeply genuine, cutting through all the bullshit and delusion to explain what mattered.
“Hector, I’ll talk to the mayor about it. You’re right. Maybe not the exact details, but people deserve to know.” My eyes flickered up to the wall. “They owe it to the people who fought in the silence.”
There was something pure about fighting the monsters. No ambiguities, no violence, no repression, none of the things that made people hate police. None of the things that I hated about being a cop. Just making sure that people lived, that they saw tomorrow, that the monsters didn’t have free reign to terrorize. Protecting everyone, rich and poor, who was a part of the city.
Tomorrow, there’d be compromise and shame and questionable decisions and mistakes. Tonight, we could just talk about the heroes. I smiled, and raised my glass to my father’s picture, tossing back a drink as his favorite Christmas song played.
Tomorrow, there’d also be a feast.
—
Baby It’s Cold Outside
Horace’s life was getting crowded.
Between the snake, the car, the other snake, and whatever Ammit was, he was being spread thin. And that meant that I wasn’t getting to keep him all to myself. That was an indignity no Cat should have to deal with.
Ammit and Jormungandr were, by their nature, wanderers. They were untamed, creatures that had never learned the sacred pact between man and beast, the warm fire and the food and the rest at the end of a day of hunting. They wandered the city streets, pacing their territory. My territory, technically, but so long as they made it clear they understood that, I could let them satisfy their more bestial desires. They had walked out into the darkness early that day, and there was no sign of them. They would be back tomorrow, for Christmas Day, and presents, and food.
Li and Ford were more difficult. They were clingier, and more loyal. They wanted to stay around Horace. Feed off of the warmth bleeding off of him. By right, that warmth belonged to me, but when I tried to tell them that, they’d just stare at me like I was crazy. The proper way to discipline them was to smack them around a bit, but I knew that they’d run to Horace, and he’d chastise me, and give them even more attention and affection.
Life was so hard.
Not least because of my current state. I was bedraggled, a rare and awful state for a cat to be in, my ears plastered against my head, my tail curled up under the jacket. The weather was cold, wet, and disgusting, and I had been forced to go out into it. There had been something burrowing through the fabric of the city’s fiberoptic cables, some old god of light that had become lost and feral. I’d caught the thing and trapped it in a jar. I might ask Horace to help the creature, at some point- when he was less stressed. I’d also had to deliver the invitation to Dane and her friends, and that stick, because she hadn’t been checking her cellphone, and Horace wanted her to be taken care of.
I stepped into the lobby of the apartment. Horace could, barely, afford it of off of the royalties of the books Harold Schmooli had sold, but his resources were stretched by feeding a large group of freeloaders. They didn’t know how to earn their keep. Not like me. Obviously, I earned my keep by stopping the gods who threatened Horace’s world, and being so adorable and cuddly.
I sighed as I stepped into the elevator, the air warming, but still feeling wet and awful. Life was so hard, and nobody understood.
Li stood in the entrance hallway, on top of a ladder, dangling Christmas lights from nails. They glittered softly, casting little rainbows throughout the room, sparkling. I stared up at them for a moment, entranced, forgetting about the cold and the damp. Then I sneezed, and shivered. “Where’s Horace?”
“He’s been cooking. He just went to use the bathroom a moment ago.”
“Still?” I said, frowning. “It’s way too late for that kind of thing! It’s nearly 9!”
“Apparently, he still needs to get some things. He put together a list, and planned to go out to pick up the rest of the groceries.”
“In this weather?” I crossed my arms. “No. No chance. Do you have the list?”
“It’s in the kitchen.”
“Good. You’re going to go get those groceries.”
Li turned towards me, an eyebrow raised. “But it’s cold out there.”
“You’re warm-blooded in this shape! Get out there.” I planted my fists on my hips. “You wouldn’t make Horace go out there, all on his own, would you? You can at least make his life a little bit easier, right?”
“You’re going to fuck him, aren’t you,” said Li, her eyes narrowed.
“So what if I am? He’s mine, after all.”
She stared at me.
“Scoot, snake.”
She grinned. “I wonder, if I come back, all shivering and cold… Will he want to embrace me? I can tell him about how you forced me to go out to pick up the groceries-”
“Grah!” I stormed forward, into the kitchen, and grabbed the list, setting the jar of lost god on the table. “Fine! I’ll do it!”
I stormed back out into the bitter cold night. The nearest grocery store was closed. So was the second. The third was open, but they insisted on being paid money for the groceries, which lead to a brief skirmish, and a long run in the cold rain and wind carrying my prize. I returned, more bedraggled than before, my ears plastered to the sides of my head, shivering with the cold. Li covered her mouth as I walked in, carrying the bags. “Dear me, Betty. Are you alright?”
I hissed at her, stalking past the ladder, and into the living room. The pine tree there had been decorated by everyone, all together, and sparkled brightly. It had been planted with roots and all in a sizable clay pot, an act of pure folly by Horace, who hadn’t wanted the tree to die for Christmas. Dozens of presents hung beneath it. Horace had insisted, and offered the money to pay for the presents to each of us. He’d spent the last two weeks working every last shift he could get, running himself ragged. I had barely gotten a pet on the head the entire time. They sat there with colorful wrapping paper, adorned with bows, thirty of them crowding the tree until it barely covered them all.
Ford-bee sat by the tree, staring at the presents. She rested with her hands on her lap, her eyes sparkling as she took in the bright and shining delights, her eyes wandering across the gifts.
“Where’s Horace?” I asked, shivering violently under the jacket, setting the groceries down on the living room table.
“Getting his coat on,” she said, softly, her eyes focused on the tree and its glittering gifts. “He found a store open on Christmas Eve that had something Dane was looking for. A silver flask. He said he needed to get down there quickly.”
“You can get it, right? You know where the store is?”
“Yes, I can get it. That’d be very useful of me, wouldn’t it?” She smiled up at me, and then frowned. “What’s a flask?”
“It’s- It’s like-” I closed my eyes, and kneaded my forehead. I was soaked down to the bone. My whole body was painfully cold. I was built to stalk the savannahs, lean as a poorly built house. “You can handle this on your own, right?”
She looked out the window. “It looks very cold out there.”
“Fuck,” I growled, and stalked back out, past a smiling Li.
“But it’s cold out there!” she said, and I hissed at her again as she giggled.
The store was in downtown. I rode the subway, and fought through the ice cold rain. I ran to the front door of the store.
The man behind the glass door turned a key in the lock just as I reached it, and it clicked shut. The lights went off. He smiled towards me, and flipped me the bird. I smiled back at him as he stepped away from the glass, and deeper into the store. I looked to either side. There was a police officer on the corner, directing traffic. I judged distances, and the slipperiness of the sidewalk. I turned back towards the glass window and the display of goods.
The silver flask sat in that display. Only a couple of feet, an inch of glass, and all of society’s laws and strictures separated me and my goal.
None of those three things stopped my fist. Alarms rang as the rude shopkeeper started running towards the front, the policeman turning towards me. I sprinted away, stashing the flask into my jacket. Frankly, I was glad the shopkeeper had been rude; I didn’t have the money to pay for the flask anyway, and this allowed me to feel very justified as I sprinted into the cold and the wet. The rain came down around my ears as I ran, the sound of sirens erupting behind me. I looked over my shoulder, and hissed. I hadn’t noticed the police car, and it was following me on the street, the streets too empty of traffic to slow it. I was more maneuverable, but it was faster, and there were few alleys. I ran harder, faster, and raced towards a fire escape.
Ten minutes later, I came down from the rooftops, and let out a breath of annoyance. All of that energy spent meant that I was even colder and more miserable than before, my face feeling frostbitten from the cold. I also had to walk nearly half a mile to the nearest subway, sinking into the subway seat.
When I finally returned home, I was practically limping, carrying the ice-cold flask in both hands. I entered the apartment. Li and Ford-bee sat on the couch by the tree, both of them holding a mug full of steaming hot tea. Li smiled at me. “How’s the weather, Betty?”
“It’s cold outside,” I growled, my eyes narrowed. “Where’s Horace?”
Horace stepped through the door from the back rooms, where his- and my- bedroom waited. He wore a jacket. His eyes widened. “Betty, what happened to you?”
“Where are you going?” I asked, my own eyes widening. “You’re not going out, are you?”
“I got a call, from Ammit and Jormungandr. They’re out in the Bronx. They needed a ride home. I was going to go pick them up.”
“But it’s cold outside!” I wailed, my eyes wide. After all that- It would take at least two hours for him to pick them up, and when he returned the house would be absolutely packed with people, all of whom were nosy.
“I’m sorry, Betty,” he said, smiling apologetically. “I need to-”
“Actually,” said Li, standing up, “I can go get them, with Ford-bee’s help. Betty has been working very hard, taking care of everything, like I told you. I think that she needs to be warmed up. Please, let us take care of this, while you take care of her.”
“That’s very kind of you, Li,” said Horace, smiling, as I stared at the snake. She stood up, tugging Ford-bee to her feet, and walked past me.
“Merry Christmas, Betty,” she whispered. Then she and Ford-bee were leaving, the door creaking open and closed, leaving me and Horace alone in the living room.
“God, Betty,” he said, looking me up and down. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve been through a war zone out there.”
“It’s cold outside,” I whimpered. He smiled, and pulled the soaking-wet trenchcoat off. Then he stared.
“Betty, why were you going outside with nothing under this trench coat?”
I just purred, and leaned against him. He was warm as a fire, and his arms went around me, squeezing me close. He ran his fingers through my hair, and slowly sat down, pulling me with him. I curled on top of his lap, nuzzling my face into his neck, continuing to purr loudly, my chest vibrating as I clung to him. His hand kept stroking through my hair, as he pulled a blanket around me, tugging me up against him. I felt my head sway slightly as I leaned into his embrace, grateful for the warmth and the embrace, and the way he cared about me. He cared enough to make up for all the cold and the wet outside.
After a couple of minutes, I stood up, my hands still holding his, pulling him up. He stood up, head tilted. “What’s up, Betty?”
I pulled him along, leading him on into the bedroom, the lights still off, the darkness warm and serene. I lay down on the bed, and pulled him down with me.

It’s been a month since the Mothership exploded, and I’m out on my last expedition of the summer. We’re three days into a grueling headwind-and-drizzle canoe trip, skirting along the border trail in Southern Ontario. Basically I’ve been dragging Chem-Dad and the boys and all their gear across these impossibly long portages, driving them like wet mules. A chill, late-summer rain jabs at us horizontally as we slog through one choppy lake after another, and no one has said a word since I tore Chem-Dad a new one this morning.
I was standing on a craggy bank, trying to get a snapshot of those moose petroglyphs north of Basswood Falls (the ones so clear it looks like someone came out there last week, did them with a stencil and a $2 can of red spray paint, but are really two thousand, five thousand, maybe ten thousand years old), and Chem-Dad T-boned my canoe, sent the bow right into my shins. I gave him hell, told him he was the cock-suckerin’est bitch I’d ever had to guide. Said, “What would you pansy-asses do if I got a broke leg? Don’t you realize the radio’s useless this far out? Line of sight, remember? Line of fucking sight.”
That was this morning.
Chem-Dad is some kind of mid-management chemist- bureaucrat at a drug company in Philly. I don’t know which one. Don’t care. He must not be a very good one because when they first got off the bus with their troop and got assigned to me, I found out what he did for a living, asked him, “You got any drug pens? I love those Zoloft pens, things last forever.”
He just put up his palms, shrugged, gave me that Alfred E. Neuman look.
It was disappointment from minute one. That’s the way it goes with the Scouts, twenty of ’em drive up in a couple vans or a charter bus, and on the way the Scoutmaster decides who all the assholes are, sticks them in one crew so everyone else can have a good time. I always get the asshole group. It doesn’t matter to me though, this is my last trip to the Quetico and my last chance to make it to Little Argo.
When we were still in base-camp I was showing them our itinerary on a wall map in the gift and tackle shop. I only had to say two things to get them to follow me wherever I wanted to go.
I put my finger on the map and said, “Here. Little Argo—nice campsites, awesome fishing.” I could see the boys react to the word awesome, their faces tense with anticipation, the word bouncing around between them telepathically. “Northern pike the size of your leg,” I added.
Chem-Dad scrunched his nose, gawked at the map through his bifocals, said, “Geeze, that’s pretty far. How far is that?”
I had part of the map obscured with my forearm, hoping they wouldn’t notice.
“Round-trip?” I asked.
Chem-Dad nodded.
“In miles, or in rods?”
“What’s a rod?”
“Sixteen and a half feet.”
“In miles then,” he said.
“About ... a hundred, a hundred and ten, depending on your route.”
I knew it was more like 140, so I said again, “Awesome fishing.”
That was three days, thirty portages and seventy-five miles ago. I don’t know what that is in rods.
By the time we get back from Ely I can feel the seeds digesting, acidic bile cramping my gut. I park the truck, and Loechner and I creep across camp in the dark down to the landing on Moose Lake. I’ve got an Indian blanket and a lighter I found two weeks ago, floating near a portage head on Kekekabic. Loechner has a bottle of water, a dime bag of crap-weed, and a dugout oney that’s clogged as shit with resin, so we’re living the motto: Be Prepared. As quiet as we can we pull a canoe off a rack, hijack some paddles and vests, and launch into the lake.
The water is calmer than dead calm. This is afterlife calm, I think. And the only noise I hear is the whorl of our paddle blades cutting the surface and a loon calling unanswered from miles away at the south end of the lake.
We ate the seeds on the way into town. Six each. Pink, acrid Hawaiian Baby Woodrose seeds—Argyreia Nervosa. Bought some OJ at the first open gas station, and chugged it down on the drive back, trying to get those nasty kernel chunks out of our teeth. And now, as we move frictionless across the water, I can feel my spine straighten and a kind of warm static flowing down from my brain stem.
The rain is fizzling, and there’s about an hour of sunlight left, so Chem-Dad, the boys and I set up on an island at the north end of Thursday Bay. We unpack our gear and pull the Alumacrafts up on shore, out of the water.
The boys are fifteen or sixteen years old, and all they talk about is professional baseball and loose high school girls. And I can’t tell any of them apart; two of them are Chem-Dad’s sons, but I’m not sure which because they all have that same stupid, weary towhead gaze about them, and if I’m not mistaken, at least two of them are named Brad. I’ve been pretty roughneck with this crew so far, and I know it’s not their fault. It’s the dreams. Right now Gina’s probably trimming and hanging a whole bedroom full of buds to dry, and every night I’m wrestling with the Vamps in my sleep, running, escaping through the woods. By the time I wake up, lying numb and painful on the ground, I’ve already had a long night’s journey.
So, when the Brads get to whining about the death march and the rain, I tell them there’s nothing in the first aid kit for their chronic vaginitis. I offer to drop them off in Pansyville on our way to the day spa.
While they struggle with their tents I pull out the chuck box and start fixing dinner. I always cook. I’m supposed to teach the tenderfoots how to cook, but I don’t like diarrhea and sandy food and hate undercooked rice, so I do it myself. You let these kids cook and three out of five attempts end with scalding foot burns and a steaming, muddy pile of noodles, al dente.
On my first trek I had the Scoutmaster, Skipper Steve, cut some onions for my famous trail fajitas, and he comes back like fifteen minutes later with a pile of meticulously diced cubes, each one clinging to a tiny piece of moldy onion peel. As I picked every one of those bastards clean I decided to spare myself the pain from then on.
After dinner I boil the dishwater and tell Chem-Dad and the boys to get their smellables together and hang the bear bag. They all grumble.
“I don’t think a black bear would swim out to an island like this for no reason,” says Chem-Dad.
“Exactly,” I say, “and if you don’t hang that bear bag they’ll have all the reason they need.”
“Look, I seriously doubt a bear can even swim that far.”
“Hang the goddamn bear bag.”
At the south end of the island, on a treeless jag of rust-veined igneous rock, we pull the canoe up and turn it on its side in the little makeshift campsite. We sit on the crag on our PFDs and lean back against the canoe, look up at the curdled swath of Milky Way above us.
“What the heck is that?” says Loechner.
“Mars,” I say.
“Ah, bull. That’s like a plane or something.”
“No way, dude. This is the closest it’s been in sixty thousand years, supposedly.”
Loechner doesn’t get it, and the way the seeds are treating me, I doubt I could make any sense out of it if I tried.
We take a couple of nervous tokes on the oney and talk, trying to distract ourselves from the toxic gnaw in our guts. He tells me he’s decided to stay here at the end of summer, keep away from the Twin Cities tweak scene. Says he wants to rent a cheap place in Ely and blow it up with grow lights.
“You ever grow indoor?” I ask.
“Ah, heck no, but I’ve been putting plants out in cornfields since I was sixteen, ya know.”
“It’s different,” I say. “Not like outdoor. Indoor’s a whole different thing.”
I tell him about the timers and fans, the light poisoning and humidity problems, the smell and the hassle of trying to dispose of hundreds of pounds of wet, used soil and piles of evidence every couple months.
“Ain’t cheap either. Those lights are at least two-fifty, three hundred bucks new. Don’t even bother unless you get a thousand watts or more.”
This is me covertly worrying about Gina, at home in Mon County, watering the plants I started a couple months ago, almost mature now. Thought makes me cringe.
“But it’s scary, dude. You’re sitting on plants every fucking day for months and months, and it’s a cycle so you can’t stop cause it takes forever to get going again, and you’re thinking about them all the time. Like when you’re in class you’re wondering if someone’s stealing your shit, at home you think any second the Feds are gonna bust in and fuck your world. When you’re in bed, you hear some noise, you just know it’s cops, your heart starts pounding.”
I want to tell him about the nightmares, about the midnight terrors, the chase dreams, the maniacal psychosis come harvest time. I should tell him about the way the anxiety threads itself into every moment, conscious or not, how it manifests when your defenses are down, and how your mind still contemplates the consequences when you’re in vulnerable sleep, animating them with oracular dreams.
I start wondering if Gina’s having the dreams, the ones with the Vampire-Nazis, Federales, SWAT team troopers in black,; or the ones I have about Bear Fork washing away in a flood, or Bear Fork burning down, getting struck by a comet, or Bear Fork getting squatted by some Buckeye yokel while we’re away. I think she’s not; it’s my own private torture.
By midnight the crew is sleeping and I’m in a canoe floating in the middle of Thursday Bay, pulling oney rips out of John Loechner’s little dugout, making only enough motion to hit the pipe and keep myself facing north. The Alumacraft is like a compass needle now, pulled in line by the visual magnetism of the northern lights as I give the paddle a slight jostle every few minutes. I’m stoned and dumbstruck. The night is pristine and the auroras are pulling themselves into domed, crystalline formations, alternating white and green.
I’m vacillating between feelings of gratitude and guilt, thankful that I’m out here to see this tonight, thankful that Loechner gave me a pinch and a pipe before my crew launched. But I feel selfish for not waking the others to see this. I keep telling myself that I’ll go get them when it peaks, but it’s still getting brighter, the tones deeper. The trees on the Canadian side of the lake are backlit now like stage props. Seeing something like this could change your life, especially a dude like Chem-Dad. He even mentioned how much he’d like to see the lights while he’s up here.
But I feel like this spastic display of solar chemistry is for my own private viewing, like I came out and summoned it with a burnt offering, silent prayers. So, fuck changing Chem-Dad’s life, I’m busy changing mine.
The night paddle is the best, with or without the spectral fireworks. The water is always calm, the nights are clear, and if you’re alone it seems like you’re the only thing moving in the universe—and the whole world reacts to your every J-stroke. It all becomes resistanceless. Moments like this, with my head tilted back gazing up at the skyline, I can’t help but think of John Loechner. People outside the camp, the folks he knows in Ely, they call him Tacklebox. He’s been coming up here for years, used to take trips out here as a kid. He knows the people who run some of the big outfitters in town, and they’re like family he’s been around so much. One of the few guides who can come up in the summer without looking like a weekend warrior.
He was the first person I met when I got to camp. I was a day early and he was on the prep-crew. He’d just rammed the bank in a tiny forklift and dumped a pallet of dried milk into the dirt. He had that oh shit oh shit look on his face so I ran over and helped him lug these plastic wrapped bails of powder before he got caught.
We met like that and I didn’t quite know what to make of my man John at first. His head is a little long and he has a weird eye. I never know about guys with weird eyes, it’s like you can’t read them too well cause you don’t want to get caught staring at their eye, and if you are watching them you get distracted by the eye, forget to read them.
Loechner was there with me the night the Mothership went down. He’s been at base-camp on bait and tackle detail all summer, since he wrenched some shit in his shoulder on his first BWCA trip, dropped a seventy-five pound Alumacraft on his head, fell down under it. He told me he must’ve tripped on a root, but in my mind he’s dropping his battery-powered depth finder and gagging on it like Chaplin.
He gets all the gossip from off-water crews and fills me in when I’m back in camp. Told me a bunch of people in Ely saw it, someone called the Air Force and all that.
“Aw shoot, it was even in the paper. They think it was a satellite or something.”
“No fuckin satellite,” I said. “That thing was huge.”
“Everyone kept seeing helicopters up north of Basswood, and that kid Andy from Texas said he saw a campsite all burned out on Little Argo.”
“When was that?” I asked.
“Last week. It was still smoking.”
“Little Argo,” I said.
When you go to work at one of these Scout camps it’s like joining a militant cult: all this indoctrination, all the classic Jonestown elements, the repetition and preaching, routine enforcement, sleep deprivation, strict dress code. Me and Loechner went through it together. We probably sat through ten different one-hour “youth protection” classes. Like we didn’t know enough not to pork some little kid, like a VHS tape would stop some sick fuck anyway, but they’re relentless. There’s training sessions on everything, and they somehow recruit these veterans of the system, these twenty-year- olds from BYU, to do the systematic programming. These guys will stand up there for an hour and a half talking about the right way to stuff a Duluth pack, like it’s the sworn gospel.
They even teach you how to shit.
Well, this is Loechner’s second summer working here but he had to sit through all the training again, because that’s the way they do things here, and repetition is the cornerstone of any successful brainwashing scheme. Besides, one can never overemphasize the importance of covering your turds and avoiding the appearance of pederasty at all costs.
After a while, though, all that indoctrination is a bad joke, because you get out there on the lakes, twenty portages over the border, and these people you’re supposed to be fostering and guiding become so much baggage, and you start telling them just what you think of them. And I did slap that one kid, right on the face, but he was fucking with my food, and I told him I would smack the shit out of him if he did that again. He just looked at me with that smirk that said, “I’m a Junior Woodchuck, and I’m seventeen, and you can’t touch me because of youth protection guidelines,” and he jerked around with my trail mix so I gave him a full palm-punch across his smirk.
Later Skipper Steve (overpaid lawyer from Phoenix) was like, “Did you slap so and so?”
And I was like, “Yep.”
“Good," he said. He paused for a moment, didn’t smile, just said it again, “Good,” and walked off. He must’ve understood that I’d done the kid a favor. The boy’d been going around being a cock his whole life but no one ever bothered to let him know.
Loechner laughed when I told him about it later.
Now, coasting back and forth across the fluid borderline, I think about Loechner, and about Little Argo and the Mothership and all the antic weirdness in the sky up here. I think about ten- man war canoes three hundred years ago, skirmishes on these lakes; displaced New England tribes winning out with plundered black powder, aggression and succession banishing the petroglyph recipe to mystery. I bathe in the auroral downpour, locked on true north, until my neck aches and the paddle back to the campsite starts seeming like a long-overdue chore.
But this might not be a nice thing, the thing I’m doing with Loechner. It’s like saying to someone, “Here, I’m going to make your brain have a peculiar itch that you’ll never again be able to scratch.” Those lock-and-key transmitters in Loechner’s tweaky little noggin have never felt anything like this and he’s liable to like it.
It’s a nasty thing when you get right down to it, but unlike some sacraments, the upside to the Woodrose far exceeds the down. Though, for Loechner, it will be a curse, a lifetime of confused and jittery conversations with garden supply clerks and part-time greenhouse girls.
“African Albino Baby seeds, they’re like endangered or whatever, rare seeds, you know.”
“What does it look like?”
“I dunno, but the seeds taste like when you put your tongue on one of those square batteries, bad like pennies or something.”
“We’ve got African Violets?”
Honestly, I’m new to this particular regimen myself, not really sure if it’s a tough nut, or what. I do know that they get in you, the seeds, in your head, start getting religion in a weird way, thinking about it all the time, these metaphysical puzzles, obsessive riddles you pose to yourself with no verifiable answers. Constant reminders of how much you will never know.
Six semesters of existential philosophy and I never understood skepticism till I started swimming with the Woodrose. Even when you come down, even weeks later, there’s still that doubt—some plants prove there are two worlds, but the seeds, they make you wonder which one you belong to.
All I really know is that when I’m on the seeds I become someone else, Alfred P. Woodrose. This guy can see into the past, a thousand years, five, ten thousand, he can see people acting the way they did back when the world was going to last forever, before anyone figured out how to take it all apart.
Just after dawn Chem-Dad gets the Brads moving, hands each one a blister pack with some pseudoephedrine pill in it. That’s his thing, diphenhydramine at night, “for the bug bites,” and uppers in the morning for no discernable reason other than cranking them out.I can’t say much about it, and honestly, I force them each to eat two packs of dried cocoa with every breakfast no matter what we’re having, so I’m a co-conspirator.
I’m sitting on a log by the fire ring, whipping up a mess of cocoa-bannock flapjacks for the crew, mixing it in an aluminum pot on my lap, feeling good, singing my pancake song.
“At Saint Alfonso’s pancake breakfast ... where I stole the mar-ja- reen, and wheedled on the bingo cards and blew up the latrine ...”
Chem-Dad scrunches up his Dopey skeptical face and says, “Zappa?”
I raise an arched eyebrow and think, maybe this dude’s not so bad, I mean, if he speaks Zappanese, this trip might turn out.
Then he’s like, “Yeah, I saw Zappa once.”
“No shit?” This could be his moment of redemption.
“Yeah, 1975.”
“Far-out,” I say, and for about a second, since I’ve never met anyone with a first-hand Frank encounter to share, I’m mildly engaged by something Chem-Dad has to say.
“Where was that?”
“A sports arena in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.”
Oh shit, that’s great, Frank probably hated Milwaukee. If I was Zappa, I would hate Milwaukee all to fuck.
“Me and four of my frat buddies drove up from Champaign...”
At this point I stop listening. It pisses me off. Chem-Dad was the frat dude at the big Milwaukee stadium show. I hate the fuck out of that dude; Zappa hates the fuck out of that dude.
“Here’s your pancake,” I say.
After the seeds really take hold, and we smoke a few bowls, we decide to take the canoe out and paddle around the island. After we launch we go out a few rods then pull our paddles in and coast. As we drift away from the island we look up and gasp, trying to believe it, trying to make sense of what we’re seeing: a great arc with long spires of swirling white light shooting like butane flames at the sky’s dome. The lake is so glass, and the sky so cloudless that the whole scene is reflected on the waveless surface.
Loechner turns around, reaches out with his paddle, I tap it with mine in a kind of tacit high-five, a confirmation that he too can see this evening’s potential being fulfilled. We paddle on toward the northern tip of the small island with perfect, silent strokes, slicing a rhythm through the water with pure, frictionless viscosity—a sensation I’ve never felt, after going hundreds of miles on water. Like until this moment I’ve never truly understood the sublime, miraculous physics of paddling.
Halfway across the island I blink and in that flash of void I have a vision, in the glint of that second Loechner and I transmogrify into ancient Polynesians, the Alumacraft becomes a dugout, and we’re off on a sacred, shamanic imperative.
At the north end of the island we pull up, roll out my Indian blanket and lay still watching the sky. Seems like I’m floating in the middle of the lake, and all I can see is sky, no city lights for miles, and practically uninterrupted wilderness from here to Hudson’s Bay. We stare mutely for hours as the auroras stretch themselves into what looks like five red hands along the horizon, with long, rippling digits pointing to the center of the sky above us.
Loechner stands up with a motion that suggests urgency only by its contrast to the stillness around us. He rubs the skin of his arms, shudders, like he’s trying to brush off the invisible dew that’s settled on us.
“I’m cold,” he says.
“You can’t be cold,” I say. “You’re from Minnesota.”
His face looks confused and earnest like I’ve just given him an SAT verbal analogy problem. His weird eye drifts up a few degrees.
“No,” he says, “I’m cold. We should go.”
“You’re shittin me. Here, just wrap up in this thing.”
He pulls the Indian blanket around him like a red-striped cloak, stands gripping it with both fists under his chin. In no time he snaps out of it and squats down next to me, suddenly thawed.
And then I hear it, or rather, first I feel the concussion on my eardrums, then the sonic boom, two quick ones almost like when the shuttle lands down at Kennedy, but faster than that, ba-boom. We look up to see this thing, this orb, this sphere of electric plasma jagging northward, crackling in a synaesthetic streak. It fractures into fifths then explodes just as it disappears behind the tree line, leaving only yellow radiant vectors in the sky.
“Fission tracers,” I say, numbly, and it’s not really a term but that’s exactly what I’m seeing. Fission tracers.
The water in Darky Lake is red, almost like the tannic acid ponds down in Ocala with cypress trees leaking their blood all over, but this is different—blacker, mean-looking. Darky’s the last lake before Little Argo, so we’re all moving at a good clip, maybe three miles per hour. At the end of Darky we paddle into a cove and look for the portage head. As we get closer I notice the water clearing up, turning pink in the shallows at the edge.
Little Argo is really more of a creek than a lake. It’s about a mile long and W-shaped. It’s narrow, and there’s a slight current as clear water flows from Big Lake Argo to Darky. We cross the sixteen-rod portage quickly, efficiently with just two canoes. Somehow a crew with three canoes takes twice as long to do each portage, and if one thing is blessing this bunch it’s the fact that there weren’t more assholes on the bus. Despite the lack of sleep I’m feeling good this morning, and I don’t let them get to me. I owe them that much at least, since I let them sleep through the cinema last night.
As soon as we get past the first arm of Little Argo’s W, I smell the ash, more like the scent of welding sparks than a campfire, and I know now the rumor was true. Chem-Dad smells it too, does his Dopey, contemplative face. I pretend to act surprised when we come to the spot where the sole campsite on Little Argo is supposed to be, only to find it a scorched and desiccated acre.
We pull up to the rocky beach and everyone hops out in calf- deep water, dragging the bows up just enough that they won’t slide away in the current. I yank off my PFD and try to decipher the scene. What used to be a campsite is clear—a twisted, rubble fire pit at the center, several flat, sandy tent pads—but the destruction is uneven. Only half the trees are burnt. Some trees are only half- burnt. There are patches of fluffy, black ash just a couple feet away from untouched blueberry bushes, weeds still growing in a row between two clutches of downed, charred spruce trees. In places the ground seems to have been torn up from underneath, and the pattern is unclear, just random and disturbing. Looking closer I see what appears to be miniscule grains of singed mica emulsified into the cinders everywhere, like half a ton of burning metallic sand had been flung across the bank by God’s own hand.
The breeze blows a cinder mote to the corner of my eye, and while I flutter my lashes to get it out, in that stroboscopic nanosecond, I’m somewhere else. In a Woodrose flashback I see myself years and years ago, when I was much more like the Brads than I want to admit, then it’s gone, and the latticed sunlight cutting through the spruce tops brings me back to Little Argo.
Chem-Dad is sitting on a log, pulling his boots off and squeezing out his socks, the Brads are all running around, kicking up ash and trying to push over charred, dead-standing trees. When a cool wind blows through the creek they all get quiet and for a moment there’s a calm in the chill.
“I saw where a plane went down once,” I say. They all turn and look at me dumbly, tired. “Twice, actually, on the same mountain. This was when I was like sixteen. I was out on a trail crew, you know, we’d build trail for a couple weeks then go out hiking in the Sangre de Christos, and this one guy, the foreman, he knew where these crash sites were, and they weren’t on the map, you just had to know. So we hiked up to the first one, I remember it was the day after the 4th of July, and this was an old WWII crash, a big bomber or something, but there was just little pieces of debris, nothing big cause as soon as it happened the military came out with dozers and plowed straight up the mountainside and drug off the wreckage. Had all this radar stuff that was still like top-secret technology at the time, so there wasn’t much left.
“Anyway, about a day later the same foreman shows us this other place, but he just points the way and sort of hangs back on the trail. This crash was different, went down in like ’87 or ’88, and it was just some dude’s private plane that plowed into the mountain one night. The whole plane was there, just a mangled pile, and like, pieces hanging from the trees still, and people’s clothes. I remember there was some dude’s baseball cap all torn up, and someone mounted a little brass plaque on a tree trunk, had a couple names and all that.
“It was surprising at first. We were playing around, trying on the clothes and shit, but after a couple of minutes everybody got weird, sort of spooked, quiet. Didn’t feel right. It was sort of like this.”
“How is that like this at all?” says Chem-Dad, pulling his wet jungle boots back on.
“Jesus, dude. Can’t you see something went down out here?”
“Looks like someone’s campfire got loose to me.”
“Are you kidding me? Look, some of these trees got their tops broke off thirty feet up. And it’s the same over there.” I point to a corresponding ribbon of destruction on the other shore.
“I don’t know,” he says.
“Come on, man, look, a couple weeks ago there was a fucking campsite here, now it’s blasted.” I can’t tell them about the Mothership, and the black copters and the Woodrose. I want to tell them about the sonic boom echoing off the lake, making my cochlea tickle and itch, but I can’t. They wouldn’t get it, he’d call it a meteor, or space-junk, some skeptical test tube crap, and they’d know I drove them out here for this, not for the fucking pike. “Well, just think, what if your troop had come out a month ago? We coulda paddled out here and set up that night. Your tent would have been right there.” I point to a charred flat spot, a busted birch trunk lying half-burnt across it.
Dopey shrugs, turns those fucking palms up. Makes me wish there had been a riot at the Milwaukee show. He could have been crushed in an ecstatic stampede, become a Zappa martyr. Died with glory.
“All right. Saddle up,” I bark.
The closest campsite is two miles away on Big Lake Argo, so we have to paddle across Little Argo and do one last portage before we make camp. It’s three hundred rods into Big Argo but the Brads know better than to bitch about it by now. Chem-Dad looks duller than ever with this smudge of ash on his forehead that no one’s bothered telling him about, makes him look like the Catholic he no doubt is. But the rain clouds cleared overnight, and the sun is finally starting to dry things out as we make the portage.
I let them go ahead on the trail so that I can carry the last canoe, keep an eye on the stuff they drop or leave behind. I pullit on to dry land, then hoist it up so it’s balancing on my thighs. I rock it back and forth then give it a practiced nudge with my right knee, yoke it up onto my shoulders with a single motion. The portage is narrow and overgrown into a cave of low branches and mud puddles. With the canoe on my head I can only see what’s directly in front of my feet. At the end I wade into the water and let the boat roll off my shoulders. I look up, winded, and take the scene in. Big Argo is like a high-country Caribbean: blue-green water lapping up on white sandy beaches, wide, clear skies. I half-expect to see palm fronds drooping in the breeze. The Brads and Chem-Dad are sitting in the sand already, leaning against our bulging, inexpertly-stuffed Duluth packs, greeting the first real sun they’ve seen in days.
I grab a Nalgene bottle and take a long drink of iodine water. Chem-Dad pulls out a map and studies it while we rest for a minute.
“What’s that?” says Brad, pointing out to the middle of Big Argo.
“Whoa, is that a moose?” says the other Brad.
I look out and see something big swimming across the lake to a small island a couple hundred yards away. For a minute I think it’s a moose too, then I realize it’s not.
“Black bear,” I say.
Chem-Dad looks up from his map doubtfully. When it gets to the island it saunters up on four legs and shakes off like a dog.
“Black bear,” I say again.
Chem-Dad peers at me over the map, awaiting an especially obnoxious snub, but I don’t give him the honor.
“Know what? Let’s do lunch here,” I say
Paddling back from the island at sunrise we move quickly but manage to keep our shafts off the gunwales. We haven’t said a word in hours and I don’t know what you could say. We both fear, I think, that if we talk about what we saw it will somehow make real certain possibilities we don’t have the capacity to deal with just yet. We move across the lake under a pastel sky with an impression of coral colors so subtle they seem almost fake, like the confusing colors of the restored Sistine Chapel— unreal, impossible colors. All around us morning mosquitoes crosshatch the air, sewing reality together with random, interlocking orbits. We’re lost in the low-lying fog yet we paddle right up to the landing at the Scout camp on instinct of dead reckoning.
On our way to the campsite I take the crew on a detour into a narrow, steep-walled cove.
“Where we going?” asks Chem-Dad.
“There’s some petroglyphs down here.”
“Not on the map,” he says.
I ignore him.
“Can’t we just get to the campsite?” he says.
“Would you shut up and paddle?
One of the Brads, an actual Brad, tries unsuccessfully to squelch his amusement at the abuse his dad has to pretty much take from me.
At the north end of the cove, on a flat wall of overhanging rock is a long graffiti of red marks, most of them too weathered to decipher, but in the middle, one dark set stands out: five bloody hands smeared down the rock face, stretched, about seven feet above the water line. I paddle up to the rock and stand in the canoe, which you’re never supposed to do, then I reach all the way up and lay an illegal hand on the longest palm print. Feels warm. Sunlight glaring off the water blinds me and for a second I see someone a thousand years ago, with a long head and a weird eye, mixing rust and piss and bear fat, crushing some long-extinct red seeds. In that second I feel like my nightmares are more intuition than dream.