Today is the two year and two day anniversary of skullface.me, accounting for leap year.

Happy birthday, my darling lil’ blog. Now that you’re in your terrible twos, I know you need attention and I won’t neglect you anymore.

Youngster Marissa can’t leave home to begin her gym battle journey around the region for another three years, but I can tell she’ll be a huge contender for the title of Pokémon Master.

The decorations were Pokébeautiful, even in surprising places!

A wild Lillpup ♂ appears! skullface used Sleep! zzZzzZzz…

An elder Juggler put on a magic show for the group of Youngsters.

…And we’ll end with an endearing typo for good measure. Giggly little kids (close to my height), Pokémon, Pokéball cookies, and cake? Perfect environment. Not just Pokémon and cake, but Pokémon ON a cake.

For my own seventh birthday, the summer before second grade, I started my own Pokémon journey as my parents gifted me a purple GameBoy Color and Pokémon Yellow.

Life would never be the same.

I only eat red meat about once a month, typically in the form of a hulking cheeseburger. (And fake processed white meat once every two weeks or so in the form of Wendy’s chicken nuggets… I JUST CANNOT QUIT THEM.) I don’t like how meat interacts with my body and I don’t like the ethics behind eating it, but I’m not comfortable completely giving up the taste. Melt is usually where I trade in my ground beef card for the month, but I’d been talking about a burger from my most favourite counter-service fast-food (pretty much the only establishment like that I don’t feel guilty supporting) long enough for Boybot to take me.

Burgers with my boy. Simplest pleasure!

Chipotle, cookies, Chinese, and great company. An expertly-crafted James Bond martini and a Pink Flamingo (pomegranate vodka + mandarin vodka + cranberry juice + Sierra Mist!). Broken shower, broken heater, scratches, screams, Hawaiian Breeze febreeze to erase whatever was left in the room. 3am McDonald’s breakfast adventure and 12pm room checkout.

Little Sister found a ladybug in the house, happily buzzing in our basement in the dead of Midwestern February. She rescued him (affectionately named Bilbo Baggins) on a sheet of typing paper. He sat next to her as she watched a movie. She guarded him from her cat. They were best friends for the evening. She learned he liked the colour yellow, so he spent the night on a sunflower petal in our dining room. He was gone the next morning, but I’m certain that was the best day of his little ladybug life.