Digestion-Obsessed Psychopaths Made It Stink

 Last night my parents called me downstairs for an "evening walk." IT WAS PITCH DARK.

I asked them why, because they almost never asked me to come with them on pitch dark walks. They said, according to digestion experts, it was good to have "evening walks" after dinner to aid in digestion. I pointed out that being a digestion expert was basically the worst job ever. 

We walked around the front yard once, then my dad suggested we walk over to the mill shed. 

As we walked past the root cellar in the mountain, my parents suddenly stopped and started sniffing the air. (This sounds like something a cannibal would do when they smelled human, but I'm not related to any cannibals. Well, not that I know of.) And then Dad was like, "Ewww. What's that smell?" and I was like, "What smell?" and Mom was like, "Yuck, I smell that too. Marci, I thought you would've smelled it by now?" 

I sniffed more, and I could just make out the smell of... wet, stinky dog. And those weird banana chips from the health food store that were super gross. 

And I said, "Huh."

And then my typical Agent-Mulder-like mom was all, "That's the exact smell of Sasquatch," and then I became afraid, because what if a Sasquatch was stalking us on our "evening walk?" But Cleo, the dog, didn't seem to react at all, which was strange. She would bark, whine, sniff, or look at us concerned. 

Dad said that Polly's dog Bor-ihs might have wandered over all wet and was just silently stalking us and peeing on our car tires. I corrected Dad, saying that the proper Russian pronounciation was Bor-eehs. (I always have to do that. Why? I have no idea.) 

Mom noted it was coming from the mountain, but as we passed the root cellar, it was as if fish had been added on to the scent. 

Honestly, it couldn't have been rotting meat or a dead animal, because those kind of things don't smell like wet dog and banana chips. So, for now, I'm blaming the digestion experts for causing this mayhem. 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME

 HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR MEEEEEE

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

It's my birthday today!!!!! 

From my dad, I got a giant metal discus. He wants me to train over February to get better at it. I was slightly amused, slightly disappointed, and slightly impressed. 

I was led outside into the lawn at the exact wrong time, because I was daydreaming about birthday presents and winning national discus championships because of the training. 

Dad demonstrated the throw a couple of times. I also threw it, but as usual, I sucked. I had always sucked at throwing. Sometimes I'm even bad at discus when I'm not actually playing it. 

Let me explain. 

I was running laps on a track, which just happened to be directly in front of the discus cage, where the super strong men were practicing their throws, which usually landed on the running track. One guy was about to throw, so I stopped running and waited. 

Then the discus coach (I once heard someone call her the Iron Maiden!) started yelling at me, so I sprinted as fast as I could away from the cage as the discus landed exactly where I was standing. She also continued to scream at me about how bad I was at running and discus. Basically I was almost discus bait, and like, I'm not supposed to say anything?!!!

Anyways, back to the training today. So Dad showed me the spinning trick for more experienced people. He did a couple of overly crappy spins, and then launched the discus into the air like some fighter jet. 

The discus went far. 

A little... too far. 

The discus launched into the forest on the hill and went rocketing down the bank. 

Dad screamed, "NO!" and sprinted towards the bank. The dog, Cleo, ran after him, and I followed not far behind. We rushed down the hill through the brambles, dead ferns, and logs. The problem with the discus is that it blended in with all the foliage, so it took half an hour.

Finally, we found it. Yay. 

~me 

"How's it going on the giant book, Marci?"

Great! 

---

I've been procrastinating for quite a while, and having severe cases of writer's block, so the book is still thin and uncertain and sort of crappy. 

Otherwise, GREAT! 

--- 

It wasn't exactly the biggest start, but I finally have some good ideas for what to put in there. 

---

Yes, we don't have a cover design yet. It is confirmed that it will feature dogs and chaos and a touch of the great outdoors. I have no idea how to make a cover. 

---

I'm so scared of spiders I'm scared of fake spiders. Even when I know they're fake. Please don't laugh at me. 

---

I have limited time per day to write. Expect a five-year wait for me to get my sh** together. 

---

My family doesn't take this book seriously. 

---

My family also expects me to finish it in three seconds. 

 

Stop Freaking Out Because I Can't Do Anything Right

PEOPLE THINK I'M A CRAZY 13-DOLLAR EUGENE TOOMS BECAUSE I CAN'T DO ANYTHING RIGHT AT ALL. 

Sorry, I felt like I should put that there. Why? Because it summarizes my entire day. Let me explain. 

A family member, my uncle, was flying into town and we were picking him up. 

As soon as I arrived at the airport, I knew I had overdressed. My coat weighed in at 6 pounds, my snow pants probably more, and I couldn't even take a step without being assaulted by the noise of rough fabric rubbing together that tends to grab people's attention. 

I heard someone talking in a different room, and yeah, the person I mildly expected to see here was there, petting the airport dog, Peaches. She told Peaches to go see me, then put her sunglasses down and went on her phone. I petted the dog, trying to look like a normal person, but I didn't because I had obviously overdressed. So I just gave up, sat down, and waited. 

Then the plane came in. I saw it and started... laughing. 

I was laughing so hard people were beginning to look at me weirdly or giggle or even walk over and stare at me.

A woman walked up next to me and stared. But this plane was funny for reasons I didn't know. It was better than Seinfeld. 

And then I told her randomly, "Seinfeld needs more planes, right?!!" And she was like, "Uhhh..." and I was like, "Because they're so funny?" and she was like, "You know what? I think I need to, uh, look at flight schedules." 

The woman walked away and I just sat down and tried to look normal. My uncle walked in. We left the airport. 

We stopped at Co-op to buy chicken wings. I went to the library to see if I had anything in. Then I walked down the meat aisle, but I didn't see my uncle or my dad, so I walked into the cleaning aisle because I thought I saw someone I knew. 

And yeah, it was. A family friend I called Wonkydonkey. She grabbed me in her usual rib-crushing hug and squealed, and I was like, "DUDE. THIS IS A STORE," but she wasn't listening. And then her husband appeared next to me and just grunted his usual, "Hmm," as I desperately tried to escape.  

My dad walked down the aisle and was like, "This is a store." 

I finally managed to get free and she was like, "HOW ABOUT AN ADDITIONAL NEW YEAR'S HUG?" and I was all, "IT'S NOT EVEN NEW YEAR'S ANYMORE," so I just paid for my protein bar instead. 

I told her that I thought airplanes were hilarious. She walked away and was like, "You're crazy," and I yelled, "DUDE, YOU DON'T NEED TO RUB IT IN...!" 

We drove to the supermarket. The moment I walked inside I was afraid. 

Then I noticed one of those women's magazines. 

They REALLY infuriate me because all they're about is losing weight, going on diets, losing weight, and losing weight. THAT'S NOT WHAT WOMEN DO ALL DAY, YOU DUMB MAGAZINES. I started scolding the magazines for being so inaccurate, until Dad stomped up to me and told me I was being rude, which was extremely confusing. Like, ARE YOU MAD AT ME FOR YELLING AT A DANG MAGAZINE, DAD?!!!! That's kind of what this whole day was like. Getting in trouble for yelling at magazines, etc. 

Then Dad stomped over to his best friend after he'd yelled at me in public, and I was afraid he'd tattle, so I ran down an aisle and hid in a shelf. 

Let me explain. 

They've been rearranging everything in the supermarket lately, so a lot of shelves are empty. One aisle has good hiding shelves, and best of all, you could hide behind the Gatorade. So, I crawled through the shelf and went for it. The Gatorade was in front of the shelves. 

It felt like it took an hour to crawl through. But it was only five minutes. An old woman was in the aisle, right next to me, but she didn't notice. Then Dad came up and said something to me. How had he found me? Then the old woman thought he was insane because it sounded like he was talking to himself. 

Then I hid behind the Canada Dry boxes in the soda stacks. My uncle came right up to me but didn't notice, so I made a movie-worthy move. 

"Buying some soda?" I asked. 

He turned around. 

"Ahhahahahahahhahahahahahaahaahahahahahaha! Didn't see you there! How did you know?"

"I just knew." I said, acting normal. Then I ran all the way to the other side of the supermarket, and ducked behind the dried fruit boxes in the produce section. 

No one noticed me. People walked by didn't notice. I stayed, crouching there, out of sight behind a cart of banana boxes, and then I stood up. There was a woman RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. She was restocking the produce and was so shocked she jumped a foot in the air. 

I ran away and laid in the snack shelves. 

Three milliseconds later, a girl with very long hair exclaimed, "Oh!" and ducked down. She was breathing directly in my face and smiling. My heart stopped. I was so scared, but I couldn't run. 

"Mmm, thirteen dollars," she continued, noting a price tag directly below me I hadn't seen before. "Seems like a good deal. 

 

And then my brain was like, "RUN. SERIAL KILLER." So I just sighed, got up, and stormed away. 

After this day, I realize how terribly insane I am. The entire community has realized this. They yell at me for it, and laugh at me for it, and there isn't much I can do. 

At this point, going into public is surviving. 

My Skin Is Slowly Getting Burned Off (By sugar, teeth and internet auroras)

 A few days ago I noticed I had a lot of dead skin on my lips. Apparently lip scrubs fix this. I've used a lot of lip scrubs in the past, most homemade from raw molasses sugar and coconut oil. But we're all out of the molasses sugar now, so I needed to try something else. 

I opened the drawer and took out a bucket of white sugar, then just put it on my lips and started rubbing them together. 

After five minutes or so it did begin to hurt. It felt like my face was getting ripped off. BY SUGAR. No wonder I'm going out of town to a distant medical centre to see if I'm insane, because normal people don't attempt to rip their face off with white sugar they found amongst the baking ingredients. True story. 

I ran to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. My lips were COVERED with white sugar. It did plump very well, but I wasn't focused on that. I ran the water and splashed it on my face. 

But did you know that white sugar is like sticky, sweet concrete when it's wet? Because I didn't know that.

So there I was. In front of the mirror. My face was covered with sticky sugar that wouldn't get off, and also kind of feeling sunburnt and cut. But it didn't look injured. 

Also, white sugar was in the sink. It's probably the weirdest thing to have in your sink, but I think brown sugar would be weirder. A stack of pancakes would be... nice? I would prefer random pancakes appearing in my sink to sugar. 

Also, I am trying to wiggle my teeth because I think they'll be loose for some reason. Why? I have no idea, but my thumb formed this red, wrinkly, sausage-like sunburn. The medical centre might be more likely to choose heavy-duty restraints if they find out I'm getting saus sunburns from my own teeth.

But what I wanted to tell you about today. 

I was having this awesome dream. I was mountain biking through Arizona and Portugal and Mexico and there was this nice Middle Eastern shop that smelled super good. There was tea and crafts there and stuff. Then I noticed this shelf of colourful stone earrings. They were in bright rainbow colours with pretty symbols on them. I looked at the price. 

SIX THOUSAND DOLLARS FOR A PAIR OF EARRINGS. And they weren't even made from diamond. They were made from resin, on stone, or something. They're like those $30 earrings that my friend's mom makes. EVERYONE wears them. They're handcrafted from leather and shaped into feathers and they're all dangly and move around whenever you nod. Only the rich people could afford them, but they somehow got super trendy in my town. 

So I'm looking at these earrings, and then my mom walks into my room and is like, "There are auroras." And then I wake up, confused, my mouth super dry. I'm craving a hot chocolate. There's no milk. 

She helps me out of bed. My eyes are barely open and I still want hot chocolate. We walk outside. It's freezing. I look up, and there are some white auroras. Suddenly, the auroras turn pink. And then they spike into the center of the sky, getting brighter. 

The biggest solar storm in 20 years has come to Earth. And the Auroras are everywhere. 

We went inside. I looked behind me once more. The auroras were gone. 

When we went inside, Dad mentioned the solar storm and his computer. I was half-asleep, and I didn't really want to hear about it. That roast beef last night was too salty. 

Mom got on her iPad and started looking at this website. She mentioned that they had one of those beneficial red light therapy masks, red light therapy blankets, radiation-proof pillowcases and blankets, $200 sunglasses, and computer pads. I guess it was like one of those fancy, expensive websites that sponsor podcasters like Joe Rogan and Ky Dickens? 

Then she mentioned that they had a real tinfoil hat that protected you from internet and solar storms. 

MY PARENTS ARE BUYING AN EXPENSIVE TINFOIL HAT FROM A WEBSITE THAT SPONSORS JOE ROGAN BECAUSE THEY'RE SCARED OF INTERNET AURORAS. 

Honestly, that's weird. 

And suddenly I remembered that we never travel, and so I must build a simulator. I imagined my cousins' pictures of when they went to Hawaii. It looked AI Generated, too perfect, to good to be true. The water was turquoise. The stars were out. Dark red, exotic flowers grew in an archway. Palm trees fluttered in the gentle breeze. 

Well, first of all, I need sand for the Beach Simulator. I need a sandbox. For the water, just build a swimming pool next to the sandbox. Stars? Put an umbrella with stars on it above you. Flowers? Pick some and dangle them from the umbrella. And add some of those inflatable plastic palm trees for realism. Also, dye the water turquoise. Honestly, the Beach Simulator is the greatest idea for people who can't travel because they live on a rock at the end of the earth. 

I have weird ideas when I'm half asleep. 

P.S. I Googled pictures of Hawaii at night and this Instagram post came up:

You're welcome. 

That's Why I Don't Use Tiktok

 Today my dad showed me a rap video about Trump getting Greenland. AI, of course, but funny. He was skating. And riding a polar bear. 

Then he showed me this TikTok video someone had sent him. This  guy's vlog. Something about politics? I forget the exact news. 

Without warning, the video was swiped to the side. 

A woman stood in front of a futuristic-looking machine with rainbow LED lights at a theme park. There was a small hole in it. Her friends chanted, "THREE, TWO, ONE!" And then the woman put her head into the hole in the machine. A pair of... arms? Tongs? Grabbed her head. She screamed. Her head was further inside now. Then, the machine basically attacked her with steam. Then dad turned it off. 

I don't know what that thing is, though. Wait, lemme check Google. 

Apparently it's Takasago Something Mist. I don't know. I don't get it. Google isn't very helpful. 

It's my sister's birthday

It's my sister's birthday today.

I didn't see her at all last year. 

She does nails. I made an appointment with her. 10:00 am.  I got there, but the text messages from my parents' phones... didn't send to hers. It's like she had her wifi off or wasn't in cell service. 

We waited. And waited. And waited. 

It was two hours of waiting when we decided we would go home. Her teacher had stopped by her house to pick her up, but the lights were off. No one came to the door. She never came!

Sometime later, a text from her: I'm so sorry, I forgot. 

How? 

How could she forget? 

Today, January 16th, is her birthday. We sent her a Happy Birthday text. She didn't respond. At all. 

Maybe she was out? Or she didn't get the text. She often has her phone silenced so it won't be dinging all day. But her birthday? 

My dad reassured me. "We'll invite her to lunch soon." "In a few days she might come up." "Don't worry--she's going to text back, I'm sure." 

I haven't seen her since Christmas 2024. 

I don't know how to end this post, so let's end it right here. 

Eat Your Tea And Stop Acting Like It's January 18th

Silk Road has some pretty weird teas. We ordered this one green tea. It has rice in the tea leaves. RICE.

At first I didn't know this. Dad told me he was "eating his tea" and I'm pretty sure his painkillers for his tooth infection were just kicking in and he was rather confused. At the time I had also guessed it was part of some joke. 

But it got weird when he said it again a few days later. 

"I'm eating my tea."

And then I was like, "I'm not following." And he was like, "It has rice in it. You eat it. Obvie." And then I'm like, "STOP SAYING 'OBVIE.' IT'S INCREDIBLY IRRITATING."

The power plant had scheduled a power outage from 4am to 4pm. Last night, we grabbed flashlights, charged the battery pack, and set out candles. We were scared. Dad called Grandpa and told him to prepare the generator--Dad put fresh fuel in ours. Mom saved her projects and work on the computer. 

Because a while ago, I recieved a call from a robot lady explaining the power outage to me. And she mentioned January 17th and 18th. On the 17th, we have an outage only when we're asleep. On the 18th, we have an outage 4am to 4pm. Of course, when I recieved the call, I didn't even know the date. 

Then, when I woke up this morning, I expected the power to be out. But of course, it wasn't. I thought they had secretly postponed or even canceled the outage, but when Dad recieved an email, he told us that it was the 17th and the 18th. 

Today is the 11th. 

Holy crap. 

I blame the rice tea. 

I'm giving New Year's Resolutions a shot.

 I've never given myself New Year's Resolutions before, but I'm going to try and see if I can follow them. Is it too late? Did I have to do them last year? Is there even a deadline for this crap? I have no idea, but I'm probably unknowingly breaking a million NYR rules right now. 

NYR List: 

1. Find my lost lipstick ducks. 
2. Say hi to your fellow skykids when Fandom is actually loading the posts properly. 
3. Be mad at Fandom for having a faulty system today. CHECK.
4. Exist. CHECK. 
5. Be better at making NYRs. 

Anyone have any guesses about where the lipstick ducks went?

 

honestly I think Layla might have hid them around. You guys got any guesses? I'm going to call her but I keep procrastinating. She probably snuck out six and hid them on her friends. 

Multi purpose scarf!!

 This is my scarf. 

Oh how I love my usefully useless scarf!! 

I've used it as a pretty thing to twirl

I've used it as a hammock for my ducks

I've used it as a scarf

I've used it as a blanket

I've used it as a blindfold

I've used it as a bag

I've used it as a Journey scarf

I've used it as a cape

And I'm sure I'll find even more uses for this useless scarf of mine 

(Current use count: 8)

Now My Lipstick Ducks Are GONE

 That sounds like the title of a YouTube video from The McFive Circus, but it's not. My lipstick ducks have actually vanished. Most of them. I only have fifteen left. I suspect Layla hid the other six. 

I used to have this many. 

Now I have that, minus six ducks. 

Great. Now I probably have six ducks randomly scattered around my big house, and they are very tiny, and I won't find them until next Christmas. Annoying. 

Except I don't want people randomly finding lost lipstick ducks around the house, particularly guests and young children, because 1. it's weird and 2. what if they steal it? I need these ducks. 

Happy New Year.

 Who wants to hear the story about the only time I ever got invited to a New Year's party? 

You do. 

The party was in our friend's large shop. Not a store. It's more like a garage/workshop. We were the first ones there. 

We turned off the truck. Layla had the techno channel on for me, so at first I thought it was that. But when I got out of the truck I realized it was coming from inside the shop. 

We went inside. Rock music was playing on a huge party speaker, and it made my ears hurt. Our friend realized we existed and turned down the volume, probably hoping that we would pretend it was never that loud. 

We talked for a little bit. A few people came in and brought in a bunch of snacks--M&Ms, crackers, sausage, Twizzlers, and cheese. 

Of course, I was all over the M&Ms and Twizzlers. I love sweets. Another lady came in with a box of candy and a stuffed Toy Story character (I have no idea what that was for). There were also a couple of drinks inside that looked like Yop containers, but something surprised me when the lady brought the side of the unopened drink to her face...

AND.

LICKED. 

IT. 

And then I was all, "Wait. Is this a dream? Is she insane? What is happening?" The lady put the drink back in the box, probably for someone to drink. Then I became worried, because what if she injected herself with ebola and then just started licking things that people would eat? Unlikely, because she seemed healthy, but maybe she was immune to the disease. I tried to move on with my day and just avoid the box of possibly-ebola-covered-goodies. 

More people filed in, bringing in lawn chairs and plenty of food. Eventually, there were around twenty of us. That hum of conversation when there's a ton of people chatting at once started. 

I started chatting with the woman next to me, who was sitting on a homemade seat made from a bucket and some... dried yellow chemical on top? I sat on a box that contained a fuel-powered generator. Layla sat on an old airplane seat. Others sat on lawn chairs or anything they could find. Some stood. 

They all started drinking beer. I don't do alcohol, but it got fun when they took out a bottle of this "cough syrup" in a tall green glass. Everyone was handed the tiniest cup filled with it. Layla sipped it all in one go, and she yelled, "WHOO! Now THAT'S cough syrup." And then I was all, "This must be some intense cough syrup." Still, I didn't have any. Even though it was New Year's Eve, I insisted on none despite being offered it. 

They all started smoking, and soon it was rather hard to see. Normally, the air would irritate me, but I've spent my entire life around heavy smokers, so I guess I'm just used to that kind of air? My dad blew out some impressive smoke rings. I watched as the ring floated perfectly in the air, then became uneven and disappeared. My dad was not a smoker, but I tried to discourage him from smoking when he had the chance. But the rings were impressive. Wait, this makes me think of onion rings. 

Now I want onion rings. Crap. I need to make some onion rings tonight. Do we have onions? Probably. 

Back to our story. It was the best party ever. Not even those people up two towns over could host a New Year Party better than that. I felt at home. I didn't know a lot of the people there, but they are friends now. Even if I don't know their names. 

And of course, there was the weird food. People were begging me to try this stuff made from whipped cream, fruit, Jell-O, and probably Red 40 dye. I said no, because Jell-O is disgusting for me--it tastes all synthetic and weird. "But please," they'd say, "it tastes like the havens, I'll tell ya! You don't even notice the Jell-O!" I refused. Who knows what was in that stuff. But they were offering me platefuls of it and asking me to lick it off their fingers, which had probably touched the Ebola Yop. 

A lady who I knew, Cecilia, made this homemade creamy stuff that was sort of like Carolans. Cecilia took a sip directly form the bottle, and passed it to other people, who did the same. The Carolans stuff went around in a circle. I didn't want any, of course, but I may have thought about a mocktail version a bit when Layla tried it and was like, "MMM! So rich and creamy..." 

Neon lights that hurt your eyes shimmered above on the high ceiling. The gigantic tubular woodstove kept us all warm. And then it felt sad when it was time to go home. But I knew that snacks and fireworks awaited us. 

We got home and Dad and our family had rum and Coke. Since I didn't drink alcohol, Dad wouldn't give me any Coke. He had never given me Coke in my life. I took out the tiniest, tiniest shot glass and begged him for just the smallest bit. He let my uncle Jay pour it, but he said only an ounce. I felt a sense of eliteness when Jay poured so much it fizzed over the top and foam splashed on my hand. 

We brought out the large box of fireworks, and they were all amazing. Classic fireworks. There was one called the Bazooka, which looked super intimidating. I don't have a picture, but I found this one online. 

The fireworks were awesome, just like everywhere. Layla and Jay's dog, Kash, would probably run around eating the stray used fireworks like a maniac. He loves doing that. And he would do his signature dog smile, which he had learned to do from humans. 

It was midnight, 2026. 

Happy new year, y'all.