I wrote a dozen poems
Off the top of my head;
Wrote them, wondering
If I was better off dead.
Because I fight with my brother;
I fight with my mom.
Sometimes I fight with my sister
When she goes on and on.
So I wrote a dozen poems
Just to clear out my mind:
They were pretty good,
And of the earnesty kind.
I would have shared them with you,
But I was out walking,
And by the time I came in,
Every one I’d forgotten!

The Fantastic Cockroach From Mars

So, the other day, Stephen Black of the Fractured Faith blog posted a lighthearted challenge to make up and “sell” a (B) movie based off a name determined by your birth date — You can see what I mean here.

I saw a few combinations that I might’ve been able to work with… Unfortunately, I can’t change when I was born, and — naturally — wound up with the thing most contrary to me. I mean, cockroach? Seriously? I could’ve gotten hobbit. Or vampire. Or bunny. And those are just the subjects! But noooo. I’m “The Fantastic Cockroach From Mars.”

But, despite not getting “The Demonic Bunny From Deep Space,” I actually did have some fun with this. Even if it is totally weird and I’ll probably regret sharing it by tomorrow…

Well, before I have second thoughts, here is my attempt at an imaginary synopsis of an imaginary (and very B) movie:

People left their homes for various reasons. For Richard Roach, it was for adventure. For the greater good. For all his family and friends, crushed beneath the boots of tyrants. The former colony on Mars had been destroyed, bombarded with radioactive bombs, and he… he was the only survivor.

Alone, and finding himself changed after The Calamity, he makes his way to earth, bent on finding the truth, causing a ruckus, and maybe just getting some old-fashioned revenge.

But when he gets there, he makes an unexpected friend, eats some pizza, and is confronted with a difficult choice: mutate every cockroach on earth, and in the process destroy humanity and all it’s built… Or hang up his fedora, and leave his people’s fate in the hands of the mysterious Second Brain…


Disclaimer: no cockroaches were harmed in the making of this film. (Though there possibly should have been.)


Who is this girl I see,
Who’s written all these words?
Surely that can’t be me —
That is just absurd!

I could never say those things;
I could never be that brave.
I could never garden fairy rings,
Or speak sincerely of the grave.

Surely I could never jest so well;
Yet, what is this of wit?
I see things written without a shell:
It must be someone else — that’s it!

“Sunshine” Award



I was in a bit of a mood the other day. Cynical and all that. I smiled just the same, laughed the same for everyone else. But on my own, I felt an anger and a weight. It was still with those feelings that I sat down to blog for the night. I went to my site, opened up my notifications with a bit of a sigh; I glanced at some, scrolled down…

“Wait, what?!” *Cue ten minutes of laughter*


That may be a bit of an exaggeration, but the irony of getting an award so named when I had been in such a dark mood tickled me greatly.┬áI seem to always get sunshine in my darkest hours. In that, I am blessed. So thank you, Angana, for your impeccable timing. ­čÖé┬á

The rules are as follows:

1. Thank the blogger who nominated you
2. Share 5-10 random facts about yourself
3. Nominate new blogs and ask those people to give 5-10 random facts about themselves
4. List the rules
5. Let those bloggers know you nominated them.

I’m not going to be particularly strict with my nominations. It says “new” blogs, but what does that mean exactly? New to the blogosphere? Or new to your circle? Or just new as in, not you and not the person who nominated you? I don’t know. I’m just going to disregard that, tag a couple people/blogs that come to mind, and whoever wants to participate — or, not — that’s cool.

Walkin’, Writin’, Wit & Whimsy

One day at a time…

Fractured Faith

The Sixpence at Her Feet

Between the Lines

I’m sure there’s lots of other blogs deserving of the award (and lots of blogs perhaps not keyed to this particular award, but that I’d love to tag anyway) but I’m just going to stop myself there. No need to give my procrastinative tendencies any more food.

And now the final step for this post — Well… technically the second step, but I’m apparently not doing this in order at all — is to give 5-10 random facts about myself. I like the number seven. That shouldn’t be too hard, even for me…

1. I’m prone to rambling. Especially when it’s late. And I almost always write late. Bet you can’t guess what time I’m writing this at…

2. Ice cream is my staple post-dinner, pre-midnight snack. Especially with milk poured over the top. Which is practically the only way I’ll willingly drink milk…

3. Sometimes (though less often in recent years) when I’m genuinely tickled by something, I’ll leave out the “OL” of “LOL”: I don’t laugh per se, I just kind of… Convulse. I find the habit especially amusing, as when I was reading a collection of the Sherlock Holmes stories, I noticed that in one of them (the Blue Carbuncle) there was a description of how Holmes “laughed in the hearty, noiseless fashion which was peculiar to him.” Needless to say, I’m thrilled to have anything in common with the sleuth.

4. When reading books on my kindle, I’ll often highlight anything that interests me: things I find funny, or agree with, or that give insight into a character. Of course, half the time when I’m rereading, I’ll forget why I highlighted it in the first place.┬á┬á

5. I’m an introvert, but my sister believes I’m significantly more gregarious than she is. Occasional run-ins with people outside our little bubble would seem to support this, though I’m still skeptical. And personally, I’m not sure I’m actually any better with people than she is, which is something she also insists.

6. I am rather proud of what I like to call my “vampiric complexion;” though I fear I’ve recently developed a bit more of a — *shudder* — tan.

7. I love music — though the technical aspects of it are lost on me — and I listen to everything from Billie Eilish to Icon For Hire to Loreena Mckennitt; not to mention the really obscure stuff that Spotify throws at me that winds up becoming my new obsession. Oh, and I have a playlist on Spotify titled “Murder;” Congrats, Billie — you made it! Bellyache on repeat…


Basically, I’m weird. Gee, who could have guessed? I’ll let you go now.



8.┬á Oh, and my name is Rachel. Ôś║

Three Wishes

I wish my three wishes
Under the sun
I wish my three wishes
One by one:

I wish my first wish,
That I no longer run;
I wish my second,
To be a little more fun.

I wish my third wish,
That bells for me rung;
I wish that my genie
Weren’t a son of a gun.


Where does it all go,
This mayfly of hope?
Perhaps I shouldn’t leave it
In the room with the rope.



Disclaimer: I’m actually feeling rather well — read: hopeful — today; but I thought of this and found it… Well, funnier than I probably should.