just january

The start of a new year and the start of me officially spending more time with dogs than people.

Nick and I decided that we really needed clam chowder, so we braved the crowds and went out to Fisherman's Wharf.

Was the possibility of having a giant seed pod kill me worth taking this photo?
Yes.

Dog-sitting adventures.

Sometimes, I forget that I actually live here.

Knitting forever.

Family portrait.

We finally got to celebrate Addie's birthday. My little girl is two now!

Then Nick and I went to Vegas. It left a hint of betrayal as the cheese we found was made of plastic.

We also had to attend a strange timeshare pitch in which the woman told us that her best friend died yesterday at the end of the presentation. Then she told us to buy timeshares.

This place was amazing.

I got to visit with my old friend Lydia and she showed us around her neck of the desert.

Of course, Nick now wants a llama.

We got to watch Cirque du Soleil's 'O'. It was beautiful, kind of frightening, and full of clown sexual tension.

We got up early the next morning to start our drive to The Racetrack. On the way, we played 'I Spy'. It was as pathetic as it sounds.

AREA 51!

When in doubt, pinky out: fending off the alien invasion edition.

Teakettle Junction.

We found ice.

One rock went the opposite direction of every other rock there.

Travel the world together.

Collapsed volcano we passed on the way to the airport.

Flying home.

I think she missed me.

More dog-sitting.

We attended the Edwardian Ball, a ball inspired by of the works of Edward Gorey.

The guy behind this table kept offering to alleviate any pains I had by chopping off my arm.

Then more dog-sitting.

And Heidi made me the best gift ever.

Then even more dog-sitting.

Then to end on a high note, my apartment flooded again.

much love,
hedgie

rejected

Below is another one of my pieces that originally appeared in ReARTED Zine.

Right before I wrote this piece, a writer friend of mine challenged me to a write-off, which never happened. I can only assume he did not follow up on this challenge because he realized he would never be able to call himself a writer again after witnessing the tremendous, awe-inspiring magic I would have created. Due to this, I decided to make him the recipient of these rejection letters.

If you know Mr. Prichard, you can tell him to suck it.

much love,
hedgie