Granola Bat

I look back on this year with so much happiness and gratitude. It's been a year of being brave enough for new beginnings, the starts of real healing , laughing 'til I can't breathe, and setting up the way for success and adventure in coming years. Every day, I wake up next to the love of my life and get ready to go work with people I like, at a job that lets me use some creativity in updating the company social media and website, and sets my resume up for advancement. My muse has slowly been returning, and it feels so good to create again, both on and off the clock. I'm able to dream big, and plan for 2019 projects that I can't wait to share with you! There's restlessness, growing pains, and a lot of traumas and negative mindset-habits to keep outgrowing. Plenty remains to put into tonight's ceremony of symbolically burning away what doesn't serve me. Even that, though, I will frame in gratitude. I'm grateful for: all the friends I've

Well, my roots have been twining around me again. All these complex identities within. Attitudes seem to have gotten more tolerant in recent years, but stereotypically, goths and rednecks have not played well together. Country music is anathema - except for Johnny Cash, who gets a pass into basically every subculture that's taken off in the U.S. But that's part of who I am, just as much as riding high on strobe lights in a wave of Siouxsie, Bauhaus, The Sisters of Mercy, and so on. My ancestors moseyed from Virginia through Kentucky, finally settling down in Indiana. My grandparents put "orl" in the car and "warsh" their clothes. I could probably still saddle up a horse, and although I did fight it when I was in college, I still feel damn comfy in a pair of ridin' boots and a flannel shirt. The success of bands like O'Death , Murder By Death , the Pine Box Boys , Stone Jack Jones , a fair amount of Lindi Ortega 's music, Those Poor Bastar

Y'all, the more I look at my Top 9 for 2018, the more you make me laugh. Check these out with me: Here's what you liked in 2018:  A cupcake menu (in fairness, it's a good list - and I'm always here for dunking on Mike Pence.) My "I Voted" sticker - hell yes, I'm happy about this one! Cute couple photo at The Darkness Underground's first Halloween party. I love this one always and forever. A 90's-era decorative statue that looks suspiciously like a phallus that can swim. A vanity shot of a hair style that took A Lot Of Time, You Guys. Sphynx with her titties out the Stargate in downtown Indianapolis pretty eye makeup applied poorly Starburst To recap, we like sarcastic confections, 90's sci-fi references, selfies, dickfish, and titties. Good job, everyone! What a 2018 it was! If you want to see your own top 9, you can do so here .

This is not festive chocolate booze-ahol. This is yerba mate, because I took this pic at 9 am. The cocoa is for after I post this. Amazingly, the December holiday season is much more festive when you're not roiled by very recent trauma - who knew? Last week, we made thoughtful, relaxing gifts for the people on our list. On Friday, we hit the Naughty or Nice Bar Crawl thrown by The Darkness Underground . J.L.'s full-fur Krampus costume got us all of the attention, and even some free drinks. David and I went considerably more half-assed in attire, because we were tired and we had family things early the next day. My red sweater, black velvet slip dress, fishnets, and black glitter bat-wing headband pulled together into a passable succubus costume, and I thought David's coat made him look a little like a Cenobite. Much fun was had. I definitely hope this becomes an annual event. Now with two successful events under their belt and more plans in progress, The Darkness

(Contains affiliate links. I may receive compensation if you click on a link and then make a purchase.) All of us creepy folks know the struggle: You're gonna impale someone on an icicle if you have to watch A Christmas Story one more time. Your family might throw you off the roof if you even suggest The Nightmare Before Christmas or Edward Scissorhands DVD again. What's a family to do? Well, hopefully nobody dies. Here are some old classics and new favorites that pretty much everyone can agree on. You're welcome: 1. Holiday episodes of Nailed It on Netflix - The baking show where all the contestants are intentionally set up to fail, everyone is in on the joke, and if you're not careful, you'll pee yourself laughing. This show has put out 3 seasons in one year. Every one is precious, but they've outdone themselves with their Holiday season. From host Nicole Byer's brash humor and ace fashion and wig game, to co-host Jacques' oh-so-charming Fren

(Contains affiliate links. I may receive compensation if you make a purchase through a link in this post.) I'm at 2 weeks and 6 days after the big surgery . My aversion to pregnancy and birth has actually gotten so bad that, last weekend, when we walked past the baby clothing section at Meijer and I got a whiff of powdery baby smell, my body rebelled. I quietly retched a couple of times and had to get the hell out of there. Clearly, getting the ol' tubes tied was the right decision. I wonder how long before that particular anxiety finally starts to die. Y'all, surgery fucking sucks, just for the record. I only just got back to the gym on Monday, and I'm feeling particularly round and soft. I'm finally back to the point where I can do heavy cleaning activities like running a vacuum, and the chicka-bow-ow action (y'know, the reason I needed the surgery in the first place) is quite tentative at this time. I'm limited in clothing options because there is S

Hey! My birthday is exactly one month away! 33 has blown some of my wildest hopes out of the water, and I expect 34 to be even better. And I want you to be a part of it. (This post contains an affiliate link. I may receive compensation if you click on a link in this post and then make a purchase.) They say giving is better than receiving, and I want to give away a present. For my birthday, I hope to give away at least one copy of Dead Can Dance's latest album, Dionysus! Dead Can Dance was one of my gateways siren-sounds that lured me into the goth community (Although, looking back, I sure was psyched whenever Depeche Mode's Enjoy The Silence or Love and Rockets' So Alive came on the radio while on the bus ride to elementary school - which was probably a sign.) I've been absolutely in lesbians with Lisa Gerrard's voice for about half my life now. This is a really triumphant return for the band. Anyway, here are the rules! 1) Like the Granola Bat Blo

A pre-note: Once upon a time, I blogged about street style and fashion. That blog is defunct now. I don't remember exactly what the last straw was that turned me off -- something about "the 14 winter coats you NEED to buy right now or you're a frumpy nobody." So I walked away. Overt fashion-awareness and I took a several years-long break.  Fashion and style, for me, have always been about art and self expression. Runway shows are exciting, but couture-draped snobs issuing edicts about what's in or out make me want to go into a full Exorcist projectile-vomiting fit. So! As of right now, I will be blogging about personal style again from time to time. Let's keep it fun. “Oh my God, you look like a middle-aged dad!” “Well…I am, so OK then,” David replied. David’s no-bullshit, rock solid sense of self-assuredness is incredibly sexy MOST of the time. But his go-to footwear is white tube socks with black KEEN sandals. “They’re comfortable!” and he just… l

The ones you love the most are worth every fight and every tear. I'm not sure if I mentioned that I'm back in therapy or not, but I am. I need to make sure I get my head on straight enough to really make a stab at having a good life, now that I finally have solid ground under me and a great partner. And I have every intention of staying with him until one of us dies. (If it's him first, I'll be so pissed that I'll bring him back just to kill him again, because how DARE he make me ever live a day without him!) We have fairly infrequent, incredibly frustrating fights. One of them is exactly why I was a weepy mess in therapy yesterday. I feel like I really am a crazy person because it's just so ridiculous. But there's a line where giving too much unasked-for help just makes me feel like you think I'm incompetent. And he crossed that line three or four times over the weekend. Enough that I started counting, which I try to never do. Love isn't a

^ That is a thing that happened. I'm a sleepy, vain bitch, though, so we're going to admire this amazing crap I found a while ago instead. I'll post about the glories of my first surgery soon! (the short version: fucking OW.) This post contains affiliate links. I may receive compensation if you click on a link then make a purchase. Meanwhile, LOOK AT THIS . I took this photo 5 minutes ago. The manicure is A WEEK OLD. Because I love you and want you to feel pretty if you're so inclined, here are the details: Color: Mamba by Wet N Wild. ( similar ) Glitter: City Sparkle by Pop-arazzi. ( similar ) Base/top coat: Nail Aid 3-in-1 Gel Base + Top + Hardener I just freaking adore this stuff. I got it about a week ago for like $3 while I was killing time in Ross. It makes Seche Vite look like a damn slacker. And the manicure itself? Totally looks like goldstone. Toldja. Exactly a week ago, I was feeling like hell, because I'd let some doctor poke h

"Depression" by AnnDeeF (Content note: If you have struggled with child-loss or difficulty conceiving when you want to, this is probably not a good post for you to read. Particularly if you don't want to read about someone "throwing away" something you dearly want. It's not everyone's path. I'm sincerely, terribly sorry for your troubles, and I hope you find peace. Do not read this if someone being childfree-by-choice is something it hurts to read about.) Narrator voice: Her energy levels did not stay at a good level. It's been a while. I'm sorry. I've been maintaining, working some things around, re-organizing, and getting necessary care. Very importantly, I'm getting my tubes tied on November 29 - less than two weeks! I've known since I was twelve years old that I don't want to have any children of my own. For a long time, I didn't even like children -  not even when I was a child. (Tweener. Whatever.) I was

As promised, here's the feature I wrote for Smile Politely!  At the moment, it's landed front-and-center on the main page, which is unexpected. I can definitely live with that! It’s the most wonderful time of the year! We’re now well into Halloween season, or, to the darkly inclined like myself, regular-home-décor shopping season. As a fairly recent Chambana transplant by way of Indianapolis, I was curious to find what morbid delights await in C-U. See More

“I lean to you, numb as a fossil. Tell me I'm here.”  ― Sylvia Plath  I've long had a soft spot for deeply depressed, super prolific creators. Almost an envy - except for that thing where their lives often meet an early end - often self-inflicted, but often melancholy just helps make physical ailments screw you over worse. HOW do they leave such a huge body of work before they go, though? Poe, Plath, Van Gogh, Dickinson... I even start to look at the list and I think... Damn. I'm even bad at being mentally ill, apparently. My amount of spoons I wake up with is notoriously on the low side. Lately, it seems like some unseen gremlin has been stealing half of them every night. I was overjoyed when I first moved to Champaign and took this job, because I wasn't used to having a job that left me anything at the end of a day. Actually not loathing most of your waking hours helps with that - who knew? Now that I wasn't constantly fighting with myself to not scre

Ugh! Why is it so much easier to get the Crud at Gen Con than any other convention I've been to! I'm finally mostly recovered. Poor David's been having a hard time with upper-respiratory symptoms and some bad nightmares. At work, I've done some little witchy stuff cleansing and warding and such, with noted positive effects on myself, my own work, and staff morale. I'm thinking I want to get into that at home, too. David has his own monthly ritual, but I want to step it up. I feel like I could do more to protect my home and family. I also want to talk to him about seeing a therapist - maybe looking into some EMDR treatments, since it did so much for me. In health news, I'm thrilled to report that my weight is firmly into the upper 140s! Less than 15 pounds to a healthy BMI! I've also noticed great improvements in my cardiovascular and muscular endurance, and flexibility. After joking around with an old high-school friend, I've decided I want to

If you want to know a weird learning curve, try being in love with someone who's a lot more fastidious than you. I'm not even getting into how physically-messy things got, pre-David, mid-depression. Here's your gentle reminder of the day that an embarassing space is often a mental-health symptom. (If you recognize yourself in this problem, you do deserve better. You deserve help! You deserve a healthier mind, and a living space that doesn't stress you out. Also, unfuckyourhabitat is a godsend.) David, meanwhile, is a type-A neat freak. At my best mental health, I have still been mellow about cleaning as I go, or even about cleaning up immediately after done cooking/crafting/etc. This does not fly at all with him, I've learned. I'm still learning this fascinating new lifestyle choice of not just waiting to tidy up 'til the end of your activity. So when we cook things together, I somewhat catch on, but mostly he's dashing around rinsing off the me

(Content note: Talk about weight gain, weight loss, and sexual harassment.) Something happened yesterday that hasn't in years. I was cat-called as I walked from the parking lot into the CVS to pick up my prescription. It was frustratingly common in my teens. In my 20s, it was ubiquitous. I literally could not even walk from my front door to my car without some douchebag loudly commenting on my tits or my butt, or some other means of asserting that my body was there primarily as an object for his amusement. The one good thing about severe clinical depression hitting hard in my late 20s, pulling me into its depths, and packing 60 pounds onto my 5'1 frame, is that I hit this amazing Limbo that I didn't know existed - a land where you're too fat to be visible to serial harassers, and too thin to be visible to fat-shamers. It's entirely likely that my white privilege had something to do with this. Black ladies of similar height and build to me still complain

Affirmation, by Michael Coghlan All has not been well at Casa Granola. It's been a little bit of one thing after another. Some minor health troubles and a little mental-health backslide for me, and a tragic death in the family for David. He's currently in the Chicago area, with his family, to inter his 38 year old brother's cremains in the family plot. The funeral was a week ago. It was, of course, a shock when he died so suddenly, at such a young age. David's grief manifested into physical pain and awful dreams. Last week was hectic and tiring enough to keep me from the gym for the whole week, and I ate a lot of feelings. I know that a profound loss never becomes OK. It becomes more possible to bear over time, and that is generally the best we can hope for. I don't have any platitudes, just love and sorrow for the family. While we come to the other side of the past couple of weeks, and bring ourselves back to some sense of normalcy, I've gotten back to

It's... been an interesting couple of weeks. There's truly nothing like the stunning banality of slipping into fascism in the modern United States to bring on a mental-health backslide. As I type and file and have an after-work cup of tea with David, the hub of gleeful cruelty that is the Administration builds concentration camps for tens of thousands of refugees who they call criminals. Some survivors of Japanese-American internment camps still live, and now they have to watch us do it all again - but this time, the kids don't even have their parents. As we ponder high school options for Bonus Kid, Justice Kennedy announces his retirement, thus solidifying the impossibility of a return to sanity within our lifetime - and a hell of an uphill fight to get it back within Bonus Kid's lifetime. My last hope was that this flimsy bulwark against fully unchecked, ravaging, gleeful governmental cruelty would, at least, hold long enough for us to regain the US House of R