Friday, October 26, 2012


There is a wasp in the bathroom.

Not your average wasp, the kind that's the size of my fingernail. No, this is a monstrosity. This wasp could tangle with Godzilla, and probably win. It is, in fact, roughly the size of a whole finger. Not that I spent enough time around it to estimate size accurately.


Yeah. No. I fled. Screw that.

You're really just going to have to take my word on this.

Oh! And it is also, apparently, indestructible.

Peter (big strong manly man, champion of helpless maidens) (shut up about the maiden part, dammit) first killed it with a fly swatter. He killed it again by spraying it with bleach. He killed it a third time, again with the fly swatter. Three times he killed it! And each time it got up and resumed the attack. A few hours later, as I prepared to take a shower, I noticed it sitting on the towel.

Watching me.

I may never bathe again.

Now, as it is morning and I really would like to wash my hair, I am attempting to construct a flame thrower of sufficient power to burn the building down.

It's the only way to be sure.

Friday, October 12, 2012

Klout you are silly

Klout has told me I am influential about beer.

Well, then.

It's true that I am a fan of fermented beverages. I like wine (whites and blackberry are best) (although blackberry wine is not very classy) (in other news, I'm not classy). I like vodka. I actually like vodka quite a bit. I also have a raging, untamed lust for cider (OM NOM NOM ANGRY ORCHARD).

Did I mention vodka? Because that's pretty fantabulous.


Beer is gross.

One afternoon, when I was first learning to drink, my uncle insisted I try a sip of every kind of beer. It was an... unpleasant experience. For everyone involved. One that I pray never to repeat. Beer just tastes bitter to me. No other flavor or variation- just bitter. I have tried everything the liquor store carries. It all tastes the same, and it is all pretty gross.

What the hell, Klout. What the hell.

Is this a regular thing? I have heard of Klout telling people they are influential in George Clooney and the sea. While I wouldn't mind influencing George Clooney... Mmm...

Wait. What was this post about again?

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Mental Health Break Begins!

I'm in Fredericksburg, Virginia. I can see the sun setting from my view on the porch, and my phone is in my bra because the puppy already ate my Otter Box and I don't trust him anymore.

(I'm actually more impressed than upset about that. I couldn't even get the Otter Box off half the time, and I have thumbs!)

This is the first leg of my epic journey across the east coast to visit people before my equally epic move. I'll be here until early November, then off to North Carolina!

I'm here because I want to live in the Smithsonians (someone should probably come stop me from setting up a pup tent in the Natural History Museum) (Or don't. That works, too.) and because puppy.

Jameson was supposed to be a holdover name until Peter thought of something better. You can imagine how well that turned out.

Peter's here sometimes, too, I guess.

Since arriving four days ago, not a lot of adventuring has been done. I've mostly been content to hide in my brain and come out on occasion for food. There's been some going out and about and touring the town, however.

Today, since I was feeling more up to being outside, Jameson (which is I guess is his permanent name now) and I explored a bit of the nature park behind the apartments! There's a stream and mysterious forest trails and a historical site! We navigated a treacherous mountain path up a course hewn from a stony outcrop. It was three feet wide with an immediate thirty foot drop. Jameson kept stopping to look over the edge. Probably just to fuck with me.

 The lighting was much more magical than my non-archane camera phone can handle.

He is a buttface.

Friday, October 5, 2012

Rocky Horror Picture Show

One of the parts of Atlanta I'll miss most is Lips Down on Dixie, the local shadowcast for RHPS. I've been a member on and off for three years at this point.

There's been quite a bit of drama since I started getting on that stage, and my frequent breaks are often because of it. But hey. You throw a bunch of theater kids, some in school for it, some even professionals, what do you expect?

All the same, there has never been a more welcoming, loving, or inclusive group I've ever been a part of.

I'll miss you, guys. <3 Thank you for giving me the self-confidence needed to dance onstage in my undies, the happiness of finding a passion, and the support I've needed through these past few hellish years. Thank you for throwing me in the way of opportunities outside of Rocky, like modeling and events and meeting amazing people.

And thank you, especially, for being there for me this past month. I don't know what I would have done without you backing me, making sure I got out of my apartment, and just talking to me and making sure I'm okay.

Much love to everyone, newbies (to me!) and oldies. I will cheer you on from afar!

I'm the one in the white hat! :D

Thursday, October 4, 2012

Forever Far Away

I'm procrastinating on getting food with a blog post.

Two days from now, on Saturday, I am flying to Virginia to stay with a friend for a month. After that, I make many, many smaller trips around the east coast to see friends and family, before moving permanently to California.

Let us recap what has happened in the past two months-

-I got divorced.
-A former friend turned into a stalker who was sexually harassing me. He threatened to kill my ex-husband, two of my closest friends, and himself if I stopped talking to him. I took out a restraining order and now fear for my life.
-An entire group of friends suddenly stopped talking to me, or responding to any attempts at contact. Ironically, just when I need friends the most.
-Zombie Fishfish, for who this blog is named, died on Sunday.

I think Atlanta is trying to kill me. It's doing a pretty damn good job of it.

I'm so tired, and I'm so sick of feeling angry and bitter and lonely. I'm sick of being so depressed I fall into bed and can't get out for hours, missing things I really did want to do in the meantime. I'm sick of watching my phone for someone, anyone, to ask if I'm okay.

I'm not.

So goodbye, Georgia. I'd say it's been swell, but these fifteen years have been hell.