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Month: August 2021

Jealous Haters Book Club: Crave, Chapter 6, “No, I Really Don’t Want to Build a Snowman”

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CW: threatened rape

The chapter titles are beginning to wear on me, I gotta admit. Really starting to grind me down. And you’ll see why at the end of this chapter.

In other news, I’m still reading Tracy Wolff’s other book, Royal Treatment. It’s not an epically long book or anything, but the Dune trailer came out and I remembered I wanted to reread that before the movie came out and then I steamrolled right into Dune Messiah and Children of Dune and I binged those.

That’s how I describe reading straight through a book all at once. Because usually, I read the way people watch tv shows. A few chapters here, a few chapters there. And it’s not that Royal Treatment isn’t a good book or enjoyable. It’s just not in the genre I’m interested in reading right now. But still, I see no evidence that Wolff’s of the McGuire/James/Glines school of abuse-me-until-I-love-you.

That said, I have a little bit of an issue with some stuff in this chapter.


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A few days ago, I forget how long now (see title of post) I was awakened at five in the morning, pretty sure I’d been shot in the leg.

Which would be absurd because I’m not important enough to be the first assassination on somebody’s morning schedule.

I woke up in horrible pain, wondering what the hell happened. My first thought was maybe our ceiling fan fell, or that raccoon that’s always on the roof found a soft spot and crashed through. I groped my way to the end of the bed in the dark, confused, wondering if I was about to be attacked by a similarly confused raccoon. And just as I was leaning over, my forehead and orbital bone met the skull of a pit bull in full zoomies.

Zoomies, if you have never owned a dog, is a phenomenon that occurs when a dog rids itself of extraneous energy by running at full speed with no regard for its own safety or the safety of the people who are just trying to sleep because it’s five in the ding dang morning. Pit bulls run around 20-25mph and their heads are like basketballs made of concrete.

Reader, I saw stars. Within a few hours, it was clear that I had a concussion.

The thing is, this is my third concussion, the second in five years. Every progressive concussion is worse than the last, which I had heard before, but since my first concussion happened when I was fifteen or something, so when I got my second one, I had forgotten what the first one was like. Now, having them back to back, I have a comparison.


Not that I think my Trout Nation friends aren’t smart enough to not split their melons. It’s taken me about three hours to get to this point in this post. I can only think for about twenty minutes at a time before I get intensely car sick. This includes watching movies, reading a book, having a conversation, basically anything other than just staring off into space.


So, in summation: pit bulls aren’t dangerous because they’ll attack you, they’re dangerous because they pick ridiculous times to do goofy things, concussions are boring, and wear a helmet even when you’re sleeping because you don’t know when a raccoon is gonna crash through your ceiling.

It happens. I’m waiting.

Wear a helmet.