Burnt Sage & Blunt Truths

PEOPLE NEED TO STOP CHECKING OUT OF THE MORTAL PLANE!!! (except for that one orange dipshit) YES. THE MORTAL PLANE IS CURRENTLY CLOSED FOR DEPARTURES. (except for that one orange dipshit). Nobody else gets to fucking leave. The gates are shut. Charon is on mandatory PTO. The Valkyries have been sent home. Anubis has been informed there is a paperwork backlog. Elysium is at capacity. Because goddammit, Cam. There comes a point where grief stops arriving politely one loss at a time and starts feeling like somebody is kicking holes in the fabric of your world. And “I just saw you at Paganicon” is particularly cruel. My brain still has fresh evidence that you  existed . I saw you, I talked to you. I squished upon your person. YOU OCCUPIED SPACE IN MY WORLD and right now I'm being asked to comprehend a reality that contradicts that evidence. So yes. EVERYBODY STAY THE FUCK PUT. Attendance is mandatory. No early dismissal. No unauthorized astral fucking field trips. I've had ...

  A Witch Without a Plan If you know me, you know I always have a plan. Usually I have Plan A, Plan B, Plan C, three contingency plans, a backup contingency plan, and at least one option involving spite, duct tape, caffeine, and sheer fucking determination. Right now? I am officially a Witch without a plan. Mom and I came back from the Alaska trip (which was bought and paid for BEFORE the wreck), and I brought back the nastiest of viral infections. Still no word from the insurance. Or my attorney. It has been 239 days since the wreck on December 23rd . 239 days of doctors, pain, appointments, medical bills, physical limitations, paperwork, attorneys, insurance companies, and trying to put a life back together after somebody else's mistake blew a hole straight through ours. A month ago, we were told the settlement was coming. We planned around it. We made decisions based on it. FMLA, movers, packers, giving up the apartment, etc. We started preparing to move and finally get ourselve...

  There are moments when the news stops feeling like headlines and starts feeling like heartbreak. Right now, Spokane is living one of those moments. Entire neighborhoods have been reduced to ash. Families have fled with only what they could throw into a car. Firefighters are working around the clock, often with little sleep, standing between walls of flame and the homes of complete strangers. Thousands have been forced to evacuate, hundreds of structures have been destroyed, and the smoke hangs over Eastern Washington like a heavy reminder that everything can change in a single afternoon. For those of us watching from the other side of the state—or from across the country—it's easy to feel helpless. We see the videos. We read the updates. We whisper, "That's awful," before scrolling on. But this is exactly when communities matter. If you have ever wondered whether one person can make a difference, the answer is yes. Donate to organizations providing emergency shelter...