So, on my birthday, when you said “bacon bloody mary” and I said “what” I really meant “yes.” Because obviously.

Also, this totally happened:

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Pumpkin Pudding KitKats

I really need to write some entries that aren’t KitKat-related, but they keep appearing in my life!



Pumpkin Pudding KitKats

These were at Uwajimaya on Friday, just a bit late for Halloween, but I’m not going to complain. I’ve always been a big fan of pumpkin-flavored dessert, as long as it doesn’t go crazy with the pie spices — too much nutmeg can kill almost anything! From Japan, Pumpkin Pocky is still my favorite flavor of that treat, and last year we got Pumpkin Cheesecake KitKats, which were non-descript but were still better than the fakey orange-colored Halloween bars we get in America.

The packaging is super-cute, with each of the 13 pairs of wrapped mini bars illustrated with kawaii costumed characters, pumpkins and ghosts. Opening the foil you get a nice whiff of cocoa and cream. Coated in what (I think) the bag says is a mix of white chocolate, cocoa and pumpkin pudding, it looks like milk chocolate but isn’t at all bitter. In fact, the difference between the flavor and appearance kept confusing me as I ate.

Inside, there’s supposed to be pumpkin powder mixed into the cream filling. Hard to say, since the coating is much stronger in taste than what’s inside. The overall flavor effect is on the sweeter side, but not excessively so — very rounded and smooth. On the other hand, the pumpkin is extremely subtle, and there are no pie spices either (not necessary, by any means, but it would have added character), so it’ll probably be hard to remember what was so special about them in a few days. I would really like it if they gutted up one of these years and went with a truly earthy pumpkin flavor. Nestle, do you hear me? Roasted kabocha KitKats?

Still, if you filled my trick-or-treat bag with these, I wouldn’t complain!

More KitKats.



So I turned thirty-eight. Thirty-eight! When I started this blog, ten years ago, I was firmly twenty-something and it seemed like that would go on forever. Now I can’t help but think I might as well give up and just call myself forty. On the other hand, I’m strongly considering dyeing my hair purple. Is that a midlife thing?

Also, ridiculously awesome boots.

On my birthday, I got carded twice, once at the Pine Box and once at the Hard Rock. So at least I have that going for me.

It’s been awhile since I’ve done the traditional birthday retrospective, but a lot has happened this year. So here goes:

1. I learned to appreciate coffee, after a lifetime of not. Pro tip: telling people this is your goal is like being the girl at the comic store, ca. 1989. Lots of mansplaining, but lots of free, delicious coffee.

2. Sucked it up and got help. Real help.

3. Started a Project 365 and only half-failed.

4. Told the truth to people I cared about, even when it was hard — the hardest — and left me wide open.

5. Started singing again.

6. Saw so many people again for the first time in years.

7. Got smashed into pieces, just a little. (Not just a little.) See #4.

8. Started learning to appreciate beer. See #1.

9. Survived.

There’s a lot hidden in there than I really want to just say out loud, and so much more just on the cusp of happening. Maybe it’s not time to give up just yet. And purple does seem like a nice color.

Love you all.


Project 93

So I mentioned last time that I started and failed a Project 365 this year. I actually didn’t quite clear a hundred, but even that’s farther than I expected to get so I’m reserving some pride for that. What did happen was I burnt out in a huge way, which is about normal for me — for example, I haven’t drawn a single line of art since Thirty Pages, two years ago. I’m pretty sure that’s slowly killing me, though, so I’m going to have to do something about that.

But I digress: I did get ninety-three days in, and only ever shared sixty of them on this blog, so to make up some of that lost time, I thought I’d share a small sampling of the nicer ones from that stretch.


#65: Checkmate


#66: The Wasteland


#78: Secured


#79: Circuit


#91: Lepus ex machina

And hello! Who’s suddenly Little Miss Positive? Being able to see this as an accomplishment rather than an abject failure is new and very weird for me. But I think I like it.



Autumn is a fraying time. I’ve never really consciously noticed it until now, because it’s not like I get sad with the greying of the days. Quite the opposite, actually: I get sad in the Spring, stay sad in the Summer, and then — well, I fray, and sadness isn’t exactly the right word anymore.

Maybe you’ve seen me during those sunny months, and you’re thinking: that doesn’t sound right, she always seems fine to me! The fact is my life is packaged up into many different boxes, any combination of which can be taken out or put away. Sometimes whole swaths of my identity are shoved into a closet and lost for months, or years. Usually this is because I’m scared of what would happen if I left them exposed to the world, or maybe I’m reacting to that thing actually happening. In the warm times of year, when everyone else is out and about and full of energy, I’m absolutely terrified. Of them, of me, of any opened box. So everything goes, except the autopilot. She does put on a good show, though an empty one.

But when the rest of the world huddles indoors, those boundaries start crumbling. The timid parts of my persona start leaking out and mixing with each other. It’s always confusing, sometimes depressing, usually explosive. I see people! I do things I would never normally do! I start twelve different projects at the same time! I start thinking. A lot. Maybe too much.

(That thing where I posted a picture of my face to Facebook, which I said I would never do? That was a definite warning sign.)

Usually, the end of this cycle is an abrupt and painful crash. Can I avoid that this time? Maybe writing about it will help. Or maybe writing about not-it will help. Whatever happens, I’m going to try and write here more often. I accept that there will be inanity, and I hope you’ll forgive me.

Speaking of epiphanies, and action plans: “Answering yes to three of these six questions strongly indicates clinical depression, and you said yes to all of them.” So that happened. Time to do something about it.

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