My Cardboard Balcony

So. Arden and I will begin the process of moving to our new condo starting next week. I spent a week and a half taking care of my parents' pets while they were on vacation in New Hampshire. I get to see my parents and brother for a belated birthday celebration. Oh, yeah, I turned 28 two days ago. Spoiler alert: I'm still in my late twenties. Yaaaaaay. As usual, I am in the flux of change. So honestly, there's not much to add since last week. Except I wrote more, of course. I've got some song ideas and two script/novel concepts as well, so we'll see if I have time to plot them out. After all, I've got books to reread, yearbook stuff to study, and curricula to develop. And that's the way the cookie crumbles! Or something. I dunno. I'm tired and just saw Wonder Woman in theaters, so I'm sort of still in the stunned "That was awesome!  An actually good DC movie!"  stage. Have a great night and a great weekend, everyone.

Scottish Wanderlust by Belinda Roddie Some day, I'll reach the Highlands, and I'll never return.

The messenger was perched atop a small tree that grew sheepishly from scattered patches of snow, its branches curving perfectly to form a natural love seat for anyone wishing to roost. She was wearing and a green coat and black gloves, and I could see a glint of silver as she allowed two very expensive-looking dice to dance around in her palm.

The Pool Party by Belinda Roddie The pool party was ruined when my dad started screaming at my girlfriend and me when we held hands, and it got pretty bad when she planted a soft kiss on my cheek. He dragged her from the water by the arm, her hair tinged a light green from the chlorine, and though he wasn't strong enough to harm her, I was ready to knock out his teeth. My haymaker caught my dad near the ear, and he knocked down the grill during his fall. None of the hot dogs or burgers were spared, and people grabbed their beers and scaled the wall to get away from such a violent spree. I then stopped talking to my family.

Somehow, I figured that maybe everything wouldn't spiral out of control; that everything would just work out, and I wouldn't have to pick up the pieces of something that I didn't expect to break. Well, here I am, collecting shards in a dust bin, scratching up the palms of my hands while doing so because I don't have a broom. Here I am, in the middle of Portland, Oregon, smoking a cigarette outside a piercing shop even though I hate the smell and taste of cigarettes.

Another Birthday by Belinda Roddie I made it to the day I'm twenty-eight years old, Halsey. I beat the 27 Club, so suck it, Kurt Cobain. Let's see if I can make it now to forty like John Lennon. I haven't lost much yet, but what else do I have to gain?

No update on the OneWord website on my birthday? Say it ain't so! Oh, well!