Angela Quinton @aquinton@computerfairi.es

good morning from #webgbcam

i do not have paws. i have long-palmed hands. strong, prying fingers. pale yellow claws the shape of commas. they look shaggy, clumsy, but they can undo a latch or a lock, pluck a phone or a flashlight or a gun from someone's hand, or separate limb from trunk in one clean motion. they are not paws.

My running coach just posted the final seven weeks of my Squamish 50 training schedule. It contains three consecutive weekends where I need to run six hours on Saturday, and between two and four the following Sunday. I’m going to perish, but then I’m going to become incredibly powerful.

Tonight was a full super moon and I stood in the backyard looking at that hole punched in the sky, the circular affordance through which my longing and delight pours. My body remained the same but things in me were transformed and I am happy

Area Cryptid Demolishes All-You-Can-Eat Sushi Restaurant

“She ate every scrap of beef and chicken in the building and just kept going,” says beleaguered owner

Angela you can deal with this. C'mon

I thought it was going to be a good one but no it’s just the want and the phantom sensations and then my own hairless flesh and blunt little fingers and sad human face in the mirror

I used to make fun of the idea that a werewolf could forget that the full moon was imminent, but here I am, 90 minutes from moonrise, trying to assign my slipping cognition, sweaty brow and full-body aches to "ate too spicy of a chicken sandwich 5 hours ago"

Six months into 2023, I've run 1,176km. That's nearly as far as I ran in all of 2022. I'm on pace to break 2,000km by the end of this year, which would shatter my previous best of 1,841km – a number I hit in 2018, after starting HRT but before the spiro had erased much of my muscle.

I am 42 years old and I've never been a stronger runner. It's astonishing what one can do in a body that actually feels like an ally.