I actually cut out a lot yet this is still on the long side, so be warned. Sorry in advance.
SECTION ONE: ASSETS AND DEBT
Retirement Balance: ~$4,740. $4,450 in a Roth IRA I opened when I turned 26. I just recently started contributing more to it regularly. I was previously focused on building my emergency savings up. My last job didn’t offer retirement until the very end of my time there, and there was no employer match. I contributed the bare minimum to my 401k; it has about $300 in it. With my current job, retirement match is factored into the salary.
Equity: $0. Not a home owner.
Savings account balance: $15,765. $1,150 in a Chase savings account, $13,519 in a HYSA, $1,046 in my Qapital account. Technically I use Qapital to save for taxes, but I know I won’t owe anywhere close to $1,000 since my 2020 freelancing was infrequent. I doubt it’ll even be up to $250.
Checking account balance: $2,227 (payday was today!)
Credit card debt: $0. I use my credit card like a debit card so I can rack up cash back. I pay it off every day.
Student loan debt: $21,417. I graduated in 2015 with a BA in French and English. Original debt was ~$33,000. Before the pandemic my interest was 4.5%. Interest is now 0%.
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SECTION TWO: INCOME PROGRESSION2015-2016 - $15/hr as a remote intern for a major website. This was my first paid position out of college. I learned a lot about web content and writing for online audiences. This was part-time at 25 hours a week.
2016 - $2,700/month as a Content Writer. I created scripts and training materials for various companies to train their employees. Started this job in March and was unexpectedly laid off in December. Sucked at the time but turns out it was a blessing in disguise...The work was soulless and I didn’t like it.
2017 - ~$850/month stipend as an Americorps VISTA. At the start of the year I got a Development position at a nonprofit I volunteered at, hoping to gain grant writing experience. I absolutely would NOT have done this had I not been living at home. I also collected an additional $400 a month in unemployment until July since I was technically a federal volunteer, not an employee, therefore still eligible for benefits.
2017 - $37,000/year as a Development Coordinator, primarily writing grants. The person in this position left and I was asked to step in. I didn’t get my ed stipend since I ended my VISTA year 5 months early.
2018 - $38,250/year - COL raise.
2019 - $43,000/year then $45,000. I was promoted to manager.
2020 - $47,000/year - COL raise.
2020 - $60,000/year. I had been job hunting hard when COVID hit and I subsequently became discouraged. I was desperate to leave my job...the people I worked with were wonderful but I felt like my growth was stifled, the amount of staff turnover was draining, and our pay was below market rate. I ended up finding my new job through my network. I was very excited to not work in fundraising anymore. The events of 2020 confirmed that I didn’t want to make a career out of coaxing rich white folks to relinquish a tiny amount of their wealth to support youth of color. My now-boss and I talked extensively over Zoom before I received my offer letter in July. It’s been a great learning opportunity, even though starting a new job remotely is strange and sometimes lonely. Having a cat helps :)
Main Job Monthly Take Home**:** $3,846. This is after $50 is deducted for Vision, Dental, Medical.
Side Gig Monthly Take Home: $100-$400. I write product guides for a website sometimes. These days I only take on work if I’m anticipating new expenses that month. This income is in addition to my 60k salary, since what I make from my side hustle varies. Last year I made $2,200, the year before it was over $5,000.
Other: ~$250/year in cash back from my credit card
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SECTION THREE: EXPENSES
Rent: $1,025 in a decently-sized studio that I share with my cat. Rent encompasses all utilities, including internet. This is dropping down to $975 starting April 1 - yay!
Renters Insurance: $5
Savings (monthly unless it says otherwise): ~$300 goes into a High Yield Savings Account. I automate $50 a week then throw in an extra $100 - $200, depending on the month.
I save $80 - $120 with the Qapital app. I got it before they started charging so my account is free.
Retirement contribution: $315- $415 into a Roth IRA. Maybe I should up payments so I can max it out, really torn between that or boosting student loan payments. I throw an extra hundred dollars in there some months.
Debt payments: All I have is federal student loan debt. Since starting my job in July I’ve been paying $500/month, throwing in extra when I have it. I’m going to increase this to $600/month starting in February. Would love to have it paid off by the time I’m 30, or during my 30th year. I’m not holding my breath for student loan forgiveness, but if it starts to seem like a real possibility then I’ll cut back on payments.
Donations: $300 to my mom and dad. I come from a working-class background and make more than both parents combined. My dad was unemployed for a while, and as I write this has become unemployed again. I worry a lot about my folks financially. In our culture it’s expected that we take care of our parents as they age, so there’s that component too.
Also $25 to a local nonprofit. $9 to a local theater company for which I’m a board member. Our board is very low-key and not a fundraising one.
Then usually ~$500 more throughout the year for various causes.
Electric: Included in rent.
Wifi/Cable/Landline: Included in rent.
Cellphone: $43
Subscriptions: ~$63. $18 for Patreon, $10.89 for Spotify Premium, $16.34 for HBOMax, $7.62 for Disney+, $9.71 for Netflix.
Pet expenses: I spend roughly $80 on food + probiotics and $20 on litter, which I buy in bulk. The monthly amount really fluctuates though. I’ve spent about $1,500 on my cat since I adopted her in October. Including getting basic stuff like a litter box, a cat tree, toys, food/water bowls, a carrier, etc. along with the adoption fee. I took her to the vet earlier last month and that was $450. She was vomiting frequently :(
Car payment / insurance: $0. Car free, baby.
Therapy: $100
Paid hobbies: $120 annually for my personal website.
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FINANCIAL BACKGROUND
Was there an expectation for you to attend higher education? Did you participate in any form of higher education? If yes, how did you pay for it?
Yes. I’m a child of immigrants and we place a high premium on education. Skipping college was never an option. Luckily, I’ve always done well in school and would have gone to college regardless. I think about grad school sometimes but there has to be a good ROI. Maybe one day. I borrowed 33k in student loans for undergrad, which isn’t that bad considering that I went to a private school that cost $200,000 over 4 years. I paid for the rest with work study, along with merit-based and need-based scholarships.
Growing up, what kind of conversations did you have about money? Did your parent/guardian(s) educate you about finances?
We didn’t discuss finances too often. I did get an allowance when I was younger and paid for the things I wanted (mostly books and CDs from my local Borders) by saving that money. My parents always had the mindset that credit cards can work as emergency funds...as an adult I strongly oppose that way of thinking. My parents accrued a lot of credit card debt and I never wanted that to be me. Which is why I only use my CC now as a debit card. I never put anything on there that I can’t pay off in full.
What was your first job and why did you get it?
I was in this program where teens get paid to participate in arts programs. I did theater for three years in HS, I think the stipend was ~$400 every two months. My first real job with wages was working retail the summer before college. I was making $8.25/hr. Both jobs were for spending money.
Did you worry about money growing up?
I didn’t worry necessarily, but I was aware that there were people with more than us. My mom was out of work for a few years due to some chronic pain and we had a Link card then. I had free/reduced lunch growing up and got fee waivers for all of my college apps. I was also aware of my privilege as an American citizen. My parents regularly sent money home to poorer family members. I learned early that it’s better to be working class here than it is over there.
Do you worry about money now?
Yes. I know I’m luckier than many. But I also have no generational wealth to inherit. Sometimes I feel really behind when I see people my age or younger with six figures in their retirement, $50,000 in stocks, or money passed down from family. I worry most about taking care of my parents in old age. I have an older brother so it’s a relief that we can at least share costs, when the time comes.
At what age did you become financially responsible for yourself and do you have a financial safety net?
I became 100% financially responsible when I moved out at age 25. Before then I was contributing $400/month towards rent. If I fell on really hard times I could probably move in with my folks, but otherwise I'm my own safety net.
Do you or have you ever received passive or inherited income? If yes, please explain.
My mom cashed out an $800 savings bond for spending money when I studied abroad in college, but otherwise nope.
Day 1 - Wednesday
morning
Another dreary January day. It’s been consistently snowing for the past two days and very overcast to boot. I spend some time lazing in bed until my Mom unexpectedly calls to ask me if I can print out her worker’s comp form to see if she'll qualify for any. She contracted COVID from her job a few weeks ago and, thankfully, is recovering. I tell her I don’t have a printer and hang up, slightly annoyed, after telling her I’ll print it from the library later. This was the 4th day in a row of her calling me and conversations with her can be hard to cut short (I’m not an asshole, honest).
I get up and feed my cat, E., her breakfast with a probiotic, take my gummy vitamins, and get ready for the day (brush teeth, moisturize face and hair, put on black skinny jeans and a navy and white speckled sweater with hoop earrings). I throw some sliced bananas, kale, frozen blueberries, honey, almond milk, and ginger into the blender for a smoothie. Once that’s poured into a glass I take a seat at my corner desk to begin my work day.
Afternoon
My foul mood lingers but I work through it. There’s a big deadline coming up soon so my days have been pretty full. E. climbs into my lap while I work and I give her some head rubs. I adopted her 4 months ago. There was a learning curve for me, as someone who grew up with 0 pets, but E.’s made it very worthwhile. She only recently began to "loaf" in my lap and I love it, even during inopportune moments like Zoom meetings.
Lunchtime! Today it’s tomato basil soup I made over the weekend with open-faced grilled cheese on french bread. The bread is getting stale but it’s almost finished anyhow, and slathering it with cheese and butter works wonders. I put out the kitty’s lunch, too. E. eats some of it then jumps into my bed, curling up for a midday nap. Wish I could do the same. Sigh.
I buckle down and get back to work, now doing somewhat-tedious data entry. After about an hour and a half I decide to walk to the library to print my mom’s forms. I order a Toasted White Hot Chocolate with almond milk from Starbucks ($4.60) so I have something warm to drink on my walk. I’m not a coffee drinker because of my caffeine sensitivity. Sometimes even a mug of black tea will make me lightheaded if I drink it too fast!
Evening
Work day is over. I outline my to-do list for tomorrow and cross off the things I accomplished today. My Dad is downstairs to pick up the forms I printed for my mom. After dropping off the forms I change into comfy clothes and assign myself a freelance assignment. I’m applying for a weekend writing workshop next month that will cost $300. I may not get in, but in case I do, I want to be prepared! The fun thing about my freelancing is that I get to choose the topics I want to write about. I select an assignment on skincare products.
Time to make breakfast for dinner: smashed fingerling potatoes with sauteed bell pepper, red onion, and broccoli topped with a fried egg and half an avocado. Seasoned with Lawry's and drizzled with sriracha. I get cozy on my loveseat to eat dinner. I also send an email to a man I've been corresponding with daily, D, for the last month and a half. We met out of the blue on an online forum - not Reddit - and have been enjoying each other's online company :) I'm not rushing to label anything, especially since he lives a state away. We're just seeing where things go for now.
For the rest of the evening I read my book while E. sleeps curled up next to me and Wendy Williams plays on TV. Then I get into my nighttime routine: smoke from my one hitter, put on some music and hop in the shower, where I also wash my face. Out the shower, I lotion up with shea butter and rub a gentle toner on my face. I make a mental note to re-up on weed soon. It's taxed to hell (welcome to Cook County. They tax everything here) but at least it's stimulating the local economy. I floss and brush my teeth before getting under the covers.
TOTAL: $4.60
Day 2 - Thursday
Morning
My body naturally wakes me up around 7:30. I remain in bed, mostly browsing Reddit on my phone, before committing to getting out of bed. I feed E. her breakfast and daily probiotic, take gummy vitamins and clean the last of my dishes from the night before. The sun pours through my south-facing windows and my heart sings - yesss, let there be light! I brush my teeth, moisturize my hair with coconut oil and moisturize my face. I pick out a black ribbed turtleneck and black high-waist jeans to wear, but ultimately decide to rock my loungewear until I have to leave my apartment.
I make a smoothie with the other avocado half from last night, frozen mango chunks, the last of my frozen blueberries, ginger, almond milk, and honey. I highly recommend avocados in smoothies. The creamy texture is to die for! I log into my work email and have a couple fires to put out. While I work, I polish off the rest of my Vitner’s Crunchy Kurls. IYKYK. I also reply to my email from D. this morning. Yesterday we were both in bad moods but this morning we’re doing better, mood wise. We talk about how rough our Januaries were - with my mom recovering from COVID and his dad in the hospital since the beginning of the year - and how we deserve a nice treat for getting through the month. We agree that lifetime supplies of books (for me) and movies (for him) would be fitting.
afternoon
My morning was full speed ahead but things are slowing down so I pause to read a Money Diary on here. I so admire this diarist’s conviction in language learning/maintenance! My French is dans la poubelle because I haven’t kept up in a long time. For a while I’d do Duolingo, watch French-language movies and shows on Netflix, and book trips to Francophone cities so I could practice speaking (last trip was Montreal in December 2018). When COVID blows over I want to go to Martinique. I remind myself to check out some French-language films soon. I’m open to any recommendations, especially media that focuses on Francophones outside of France, or those from immigrant communities :)
I return to my data entry task. Giving away grants is fun. Tracking dollar amounts and grantee info with excel formulas, less so. I finish up the last of my soup and grilled cheese sandwich and give E. her lunch. I put on the student loan episode of Patriot Act as I eat. I’d truly be wowed if student loan forgiveness actually came to fruition. It’s either somewhat likely or not likely at all, depending on who you ask.
Post-lunch, I’m craving cupcakes bad. Did I mention I have an unrelenting sweet tooth? I look up cupcakes near me and mentally bribe myself with a cupcake order if I get my work done.
evening
My cupcake craving has subsided. I'll see how I'm feeling tomorrow. I normally eat dinner around 7 or 8pm but opt for an early dinner today: my leftover Mongolian Beef and peapod tips in garlic sauce, yum. I ordered Chinese takeout on Sunday. While my rice cooks, I bundle up for a trip to Walgreens. When I'm there I get a big thing of Dawn dish soap, some antibacterial wipes that are on sale, a bag of roasted cashews, a Reese's Fast Break bar, and a small bag of Pirate's Booty ($16.83).
By the time I get back my rice is nearly finished. My sink has some dirty dishes, so I wash those before reheating the Mongolian beef and peapod tips on my stove top. I'm one of those weirdos without a microwave… don't miss it at all though. I dig into my leftovers and reply to a message from D. which is quite imaginative. In the sexual sense ;) D. has a very sensual way with words and as a writer of course I'm into it. I go back for seconds, finishing the rest of my takeout leftovers. After dinner and some more reddit browsing I do my evening shower routine. At 10:30 pm my upstairs neighbor is annoyingly doing jumping jacks (that’s what it sounds like) or something that makes it very hard to focus. Ugh.
TOTAL: $16.83
DAY 3 - Friday
MorningI fell asleep unexpectedly and woke up around 2am. This kind of thing happens a lot. I guess my cat has adapted too, she’s always bugging me for food in the early morning hours. I feed my cat, brush my teeth, crawl back into bed and fall asleep an hour or so later.
I’m up again at 7:30, laying in bed before officially getting up. My mom calls me and I remember I promised to order her a Lyft to work. Her workplace has the COVID vaccine and she’s going to get the first dosage. She mentions that some symptoms are coming back - like shortness of breath, which she didn’t even have the first time - even though she’s been on the mend for the past week and just got the go-ahead from her doctor to work again. After I order my mom the Lyft ($31.46 incl. tip) I indulge in my nasty habit of googling medical stuff. I find an article about a woman who ended up in the hospital unexpectedly, 5 MONTHS after getting symptoms. Cue cortisol levels going up. I also have a work meeting this morning that I’m nervous about, having never led it alone before.
I get out of bed, feed my cat her breakfast + probiotic, take gummy vitamins, and get dressed with a black turtleneck, black jeans, and small hoop earrings. I try to breathe and remind myself that all will be fine. I have a habit of catastrophizing and generally thinking in worst-case scenarios, if that wasn’t already obvious. My meeting ends up going perfectly fine though, and my mom texts me later to say she took the train home (my Dad needed the car for work this morning). She is feeling fine for now. Since I skipped my morning smoothie I make one now with pear, kale, frozen strawberries, almond milk and honey. Eh, I’ve had better. But it’s drinkable.
afternoon
My morning flew! I’m running low on food so for lunch, I throw some crinkle cut fries in the oven. Grab an avocado, red onion, and a roma tomato from the fridge to make a quick guac. I also make a side of sriracha mayo.
Today is payday. It’s my rent paycheck so I’m not as excited tho. While my fries are in the oven I move some money to my Roth IRA. I watch one of my favorite Youtubers, King of Reads, while I eat my lunch. He has an interesting take on Gamestop Gate and basically says, abolish all this stock market shit. I do think there are a lot of evils in American capitalism, which was literally built off the backs of s colonized peoples. Like is this system even for us?
After lunch I get back to work. I also do something I seldom do: order groceries off Instacart. The anxiety of the day has drained me and I don’t feel like lugging a bunch of groceries home. Plus, the store I order from is cheaper than the one closest to me. I get some jasmine rice, a family pack of Nongshim ramen, green onions, carrots, zucchini, sirloin steak, ginger root, yellow onions, chili paste, bell peppers, white mushrooms, yellow squash, bok choy, kombucha, bamboo skewers, grape tomatoes, a bottle of Apothic Red and some hazelnut cookies. Add $10 for tip ($74.48). I do walk to the local grocery store anyway to 1) get some fresh air while it’s still daylight and 2) pick up smoothie ingredients. From there I get a big bag of frozen mixed berries, frozen mango chunks, an avocado, three bananas, almond milk, coconut sparkling water, and a sweet Belgian waffle ($18.15).
Evening
I knock out the last of my work tasks just in time for teletherapy at 5:10. I love my therapist. Been seeing her for going on three years and she’s changed my life. We talk and I feel lighter, remembering the progress I’ve made since I first walked into her office crying in 2018. After we hang up I get an email receipt for the cost, which is accounted for in monthly expenses. I put away my instacart delivery and message a bit more with D. Even though we’re just emailing, I truly enjoy his company. He makes me feel incredibly attractive and soft.
Glass of red wine in one hand, I play with E. for 15 minutes. Despite her age (over 10) she’s spry and will bug the hell out of me to indulge her. I spend the rest of the evening on the couch decompressing with my wine. I do my nightly shower routine but skip the weed because I know it'll make me fall asleep ASAP. Then I fry up the rest of my breakfast for dinner ingredients (minus avocado and egg) and eat them with sriracha.
TOTAL: $124.09
DAY 4 - Saturday
morning
Oops. Fell asleep and woke up at an odd hour. Again. Go brush my teeth and floss. My kitty is very awake and bugging me for attention so I smoke, play with her a bit, and go back to sleep.
Wake up a few hours later. I hear the unmistakable retching of my cat throwing up. Maybe she went too long without food...I mop up the small puddle with paper towels and spray my rug liberally with Nature's Miracle. When I feed E. her breakfast + probiotic she keeps it all down. I take gummy vitamins and get back into bed. From my phone, I go to my local dispensary's website to place an order for pick up, ultimately choosing a strain I've had before that's on sale. I log into my checking account to transfer money to my mom (accounted for in monthly expenses).
Actually get out of bed for real around 9:45am. Scoop E.’s litter box and prepare to get some freelance work done. I make a mango, pear and avocado smoothie with almond milk and honey and sit down to work. Girls plays in the background. I never watched this show when it was popular and was surprised by how funny it is (albeit problematic for a number of reasons).
Afternoon
Snack break! I brew some black tea and have it with the hazelnut cookies I got yesterday. 90 minutes later, once I’m two-thirds through my assignment, I make actual lunch: ramen noodles spruced up with minced garlic and ginger, scallion whites, bok choy, and mushrooms. All topped with scallion greens. Easy and d e l i c i o u s. There’s another snowstorm, urgh. I’m walking to pick up my weed and from my window, it doesn’t look too bad right now. Preorder a Honey Citrus Mint from Starbucks for the long walk ($3.27) and bundle up. It’s an hour round trip but I love walking and don’t really work out so...I take my exercise where I can get it. Stop by the ATM to withdraw cash for flower ($70). On my way back from picking up I indulge in a carrot cake slice from a popular bakery in the area. ($8.13 incl. tip). Okay, I’m set on sweets for awhile. For now :)
Evening
I finally wrap up my freelance assignment and share it with my editor. Shower time. Take a hit from my one hitter and do my nightly routine. Once finished, I change my mind on dinner. I’d originally planned to make a quick "bibimbap" (air quotes because it's very much a knock off) and even steamed rice ahead of time, but carrot cake is sounding good right now. Carrot cake it is! I have some more hazelnut cookies for a well-balanced meal. Give the kitty her dinner and fall asleep with the TV on.
TOTAL: $81.40
DAY 5 - Sunday
Morning
Woke up at an odd hour again. (around 4 am). E. is being a butt once again so I feed her an early breakfast with her probiotic. Brush my teeth, floss, and go back to sleep for a few hours. Get up and out of bed for real around 9:30 and clean up a bit, doing one load of laundry and vacuuming my rug and floors. I finally cook and eat the bibimbap meant for yesterday (minus the egg). I have a virtual date with a college friend I haven’t spoken to in a while, so we spend a few hours catching up! My friendship with her is ever-evolving. She was someone I put on a pedestal for a long time, until she disappointed me when I really needed her and hurt me deeply. I’ve worked to let go of that resentment and remind myself that 1) she is very much human, 2) she is not a better person than I am and 3) I can’t expect everyone to have the same heart that I have. Tough but necessary lessons to learn.
Afternoon
I really should deep clean E’s litter box today but ehhhh, not feeling it. I clean my bathtub, bathroom sink and mirror instead and wipe down some surfaces. I also sip some red wine blended with frozen strawberries (10/10, would recommend!) and start meal prepping for later. I’m making suya - West African meat skewers - so I thinly slice my sirloin steak while it’s semi-frozen and refrigerate the rest to fully defrost. I also chop up more garlic, ginger, bok choy, mushrooms, and scallions for ramen later. I know I’m going to get high very soon and won’t want to do too much, so I’m doing what future high-me will thank me for. Light an oudh incense stick, reply to a message from D., and submit my $250 invoice for freelance work. Put food out for E.
The snow is still pouring in from yesterday. Maybe we’ll get those 10 inches of snow after all. I smoke a bit and cook the same ramen as yesterday but add a fried egg and some sesame oil. I inhale the whole thing and drink all the broth, either it's really this amazing or I'm just stoned. For dessert, I brew black tea and have it with the rest of my hazelnut cookies.
evening
Shower routine time! As much as I hate cleaning the bathtub, that first shower afterwards is the best. Wash my hair with Aussie Moist conditioner (I keep my hair very short and cut it myself) and moisturize with copious coconut oil. Listen to one of my favorite podcasts while in the shower, Say Your Mind with Kelechi Okafor. I love listening to her and her brother’s banter, it feels like I'm among friends.
I've been eating throughout the day so I'm not too hungry come dinner time. I have some crinkle cut fries with sriracha mayo and crack open a kombucha. Rewatch more old episodes of Girls. Why is Adam Driver so attractive to me, even if his character on the show is awful (they're all awful, really)?
TOTAL: $0
Day 6 - Monday
morning
Odd sleep hours strike again! I should mention that I also brush my teeth while I’m in the shower, lest you think I brush once a day only :) Take gummy vitamins and give my nagging E. her early morning meal after playing with her a bit. Scroll on Reddit until I fall back asleep.
Get up and start the day for real at 8:40. Clean a few dirty dishes from last night and give E. breakfast, round #2 with her probiotic. Brush my teeth moisturize my hair, and choose an oatmeal, knee-length knit dress to wear with small hoop earrings. I make a smoothie with a navel orange, some frozen strawberries, frozen banana that I almost forgot about, and almond milk. It’s February now. Happy Black History/Present/Future Month. February is actually one of my least favorite months but after the January I’ve had, I’m ready to move on swiftly. E. is fascinated by all the snowblowing that our neighbors do outside the window. Chicago hasn’t been hit this hard with snow in 5 years - 9 inches!
This is a very slow morning, work wise. Snack on cashews. Work on some excel data and open a tab for Girl Scout Cookies. It’s that seasonnnn. Note that there’s a four box minimum to get cookies. I’ll save my cookie order for next week.
afternoon
The sunlight is giving me life today. I’m getting my Vitamin D through the window, though a walk to the beach sounds lovely. After doing a bit more work, it’s lunch time. I steam some jasmine rice and fry carrots, zucchini, mushrooms, bok choy, and scallion whites in soy sauce and chili paste for my knockoff bibimbap. With an egg this time. Then I decide to bundle up and walk to the beach for additional vitamin D. I only live five minutes away :) . The sand and shoreline are all covered in snow but peaceful nonetheless. I've actually never been to the beach in the dead of winter before. God, I love Lake Michigan. Never understood the hype around oceans, especially because you can't drink the water. Have my phone check in with my boss. Message a bit with D. and round up my tasks for the day.
evening
D. encouraged me to follow my impulses and order the greasy pizza I’m craving right now. But I have food in the fridge. Sigh. Cut up my veggies and season them for veggie kabobs to go with the suya, which has marinated in a spice rub. Put the veggies and meat on skewer sticks and put it all in the oven. It comes out…okay-ish. The meat is a bit overdone and not as flavorful as I'd hoped. Not terrible for a first try, I suppose. Eat two veggie kabobs and two suya sticks. Fall down the Reddit rabbithole for way too damn long. Also check on my mom and how she's doing. She said she's okay now, taking things one day at a time. Feed the kitty her dinner. Do my nighttime routine (including brushing my teeth) and snuggle in bed to watch more Girls. Snack on graham crackers since I have no other sweets or candy handy.
TOTAL: $0
Day 7 - Tuesday
morningMe and my fucked up sleep schedule. No judgment, plz. Wake up at an odd hour again, brush my teeth, feed the cat, smoke a bit, and go back asleep.
My mom calls me at 8 to tell me she might need me to call her a Lyft again - this is not a typical nor regular expense btw - because she has one of her work trainings and my Dad took the car for work. She asks if I still want to go to Nigeria this summer since she’s about to get tickets. IDK! I’m not comfortable traveling internationally...but my Nigerian passport also expires this year and it was a huge pain in the ass to get it in the first place. I enjoy visiting, though I always have a lot of personal shit to navigate while there. Being part of a diaspora is complicated.
Also wake up to a steamy message from D. Steamy enough for me to get myself off, truly the best way to start any morning. My period has started...fun. I was expecting it though. Feed E. her breakfast with a probiotic, take gummy vitamins, brush my teeth, moisturize hair, and get dressed in a grey turtleneck, black Adidas soccer pants, and gold hoop earrings. Blend frozen mango chunks, a small banana, greek yogurt and almond milk into a smoothie. I also brew a cup of lemon tea. Pop two ibuprofen and start my work day with a staff meeting.
afternoon
Light a candle and keep working! Ok, I actually break for a few YouTube videos, one from MelinaPendulum about the Sex And the City reboot. To sum it up: why do one?? What’s the point if Samantha isn’t even coming back? I put out E.’s lunch. I also steam some jasmine rice to eat with the suya and veggie kabobs from last night. Damn I wish I had some steak sauce. Oh well. Eat lunch and call a Lyft for my mom. ($25.99, incl. tip). Work with more Sex and the City in the background.
EveningThe work day has ended and I am desperately in need of snacks! I load $10 on my Starbucks app and then decide to not get anything. I planned to fuck up some hot chocolate but the way my cramps are fading and coming back, it’s best to stay away from a drink with 57 grams of sugar. Pick up some Lysol wipes, a bottle of club soda, Fig Newtons, Ritz Crackers to go with the block of cheese in my fridge, a Reese’s Fast Break bar, and some Haribo Happy Cola gummies. ($11.69)
Get home, pour a small glass of Apothic Red and play with E. for a little bit. Then go down another Reddit rabbithole before making my dinner - ramen, minus the egg. Still delicious! Message D. for a bit and do my shower routine. I did not read very much this week, maybe it’s a testament to me not liking my book that much? Hmmm....my neighbor starts his incredibly annoying exercise routine and I fall asleep waiting for it to stop.
TOTAL: $47.68
--
GRAND TOTAL = $274.60
Food + Drink = $133.37
Fun / Entertainment = $70
Home + Health = $13.78
Other = $57.45
All in all, this was an unsurprising week, especially since I’m already in the habit of tracking expenses daily. The two atypical things were the Lyft rides for my mom - an infrequent occurrence - and my weed purchase, which happens once monthly. I suppose I could have included that in my monthly expenses. Please don’t roast me for my sleep schedule! I know issa mess. Also, I feed my cat four times a day in case that’s unclear.
Edit: Any and every time I left my home I wore a mask and then washed my hands thoroughly upon return.

Title: I am 35 years old, I made $67,665 gross last year (between multiple jobs) and live in Buffalo and work in higher education and retail.
This is my 5th MD update. Previous MDs in June 2019, October 2019, February 2020, and July 2020.
Ref29 questions:
Was there an expectation for you to attend higher education? Did you participate in any form of higher education? If yes, how did you pay for it?
Absolutely. Both of my parents have bachelors degrees, and it wasn’t even a conversation of “if” I was going to college, but “where”. I ended up going to a private 4-year college, with a 75% merit scholarship. I was able to pay for the first semester with savings bonds/general savings, but took out loans for the remaining semesters. I worked 2 on campus jobs (tour guide and TA), plus at a coffee shop - this was more for spending money/gas etc. Looking back, I wish that I had put more of that income aside for paying for school, but I was definitely headlong into the student loan trap of “it’s ok, this is good debt….blah blah.”
I thought that i had the exact idea of what I wanted to do for a career - and that basically required a masters degree - so I went straight to grad school after undergrad. Private - and took out the maximum student loans for both years. I cannot stress what a terrible financial idea this was. The last half of my MA was in DC, so I used the loans for rent/food, as I had a full time unpaid internship. Long story short, what I thought was my career goal wasn’t.
I am FINALLY nearly done paying off my loans. If I had to go back and give my past self advice, it would have been to not go to grad school directly after undergrad. I still might have gotten my masters, but I would have done it in a much more financially responsible way.
Growing up, what kind of conversations did you have about money? Did your parent/guardian(s) educate you about finances?
We had conversations growing up - but it was much more of a conversation now that I’m an adult. I’ve noted in past MDs, but my parents have told us that they regret not being able to help us all more as teenagers/college/young adults, so they’ve been extremely supportive of my focus on debt repayment.
Did you worry about money growing up?
Not really. I remember being conscious about it - we didn’t have new cars (EVER - like it’s still a thing), and we used coupons/budgets/bulk freezer meals for shopping, but I think a portion of that was that there were 4 of us kids. We were all involved in a variety of extracurricular activities as well, but I don’t remember even being like, limited or restricted from doing anything.
Do you worry about money now?
Absolutely.
While I am noting that I’m making progress, it is still very overwhelming. It’s really hard for me not to beat myself up when I either buy “treats” or things that aren’t really treats, but are just home comforts. I finally bought myself 2 sets (!) of decent sheets this past month after having 1 set of crappy sheets for the last 2 years lol. I still have so much work to do, on debt repayment, fully funding my emergency fund, and (massive goal here) saving for a down payment on a house.
At what age did you become financially responsible for yourself and do you have a financial safety net?
I would say I was financially responsible for myself when I moved for grad school in the fall of 2008 (so when I was 22/23).
That being said, I definitely have had a financial safety net - my parents always assisted with grocery money if I needed it - when I was married, that definitely was not only a safety net, but also got me in a lot of bad habits.
Since my divorce, my parents have assisted with cell phone, car insurance, and letting me live with them for a few months when I moved back to the US. I know that if something happened, they would absolutely assist with a place to live if I needed it.
Do you or have you ever received passive or inherited income? If yes, please explain.
As previous MDs have noted, my parents have assisted with assorted checks when my dad got a bonus, and they have always been extremely generous with holiday $.
Section One: Assets and Debt
Retirement Balance (and how you got there): $33,194.67 (up from $23,800 in February 2020)
This is a combo of Stash Retire ($1721.52), 401K from a previous job ($17,330.01), retirement accounts from my current job ($2807.58 in my optional IRA to which I contribute extra; $2947.46 in the basic retirement plan, to which my employer contributes 7%), and TSP from a previous job ($8,388.10).
Savings account balance: $1000
Checking account balance: $1381.07 (at the start of the money diary)
Credit card debt (and how you accumulated it): $7,558.08 (focus has been more on student loans, plus I am a bit guilty of using it at random points) (down from $19,556 in June 2019).
Student loan debt (for what degree): Current remaining balance is $972.57!!!!! This is down from $23,645.37 in June 2019) (combined loans for undergraduate and graduate degrees in International Relations. To give you an idea of how much I’ve paid off - I’ve paid $118,297.81 off up to this point).
*note: December was a PHENOMENAL debt payment month for me (just over $4k).
Section Two: Income
Main Job Monthly Take Home: $2847.53
*after using the IRS refund calculator, it became clear that I was expecting a much higher refund, so I stopped having extra withheld. Eventually I’ll get the hang of it.
Side Gig Monthly Take Home: $1442.72 (average monthly take home August-December 2020)
My retail job fully reopened, and I also applied for, and got a promotion, which meant both an hourly raise and more hours)
Any Other Monthly Income Here:

• Christmas $ from Mom & Dad - $1000
• Stimulus Checks - $1200 + $600 (Both of these went mainly to debt repayment)

Section Three: Expenses
Rent / Mortgage $980.00/month (+ $3.95 service charge when I pay online) (no change)
Retirement contribution: $115.58/month Roth IRA from work + $80.00/month into Stash Retire (no change)
Savings contribution: $0/month (Debt payments are the priority)
Investment contribution: None
Health/Dental/Vision Insurance: $76.38/month (Through work, it gets taken out biweekly)
FSA contribution: $27.78 biweekly (I set my annual contribution at $750 this year, up from $600)
Debt payments
Student Loan minimums: $55.54 is strictly the minimum for my FINAL (!!!) student loan, but as you all know by now, I have been attacking these with a vengeance and plan on this being gone no later than March.
Credit Card minimums: Avg. Monthly Payment $300. (as mentioned in the debt section, I have slipped slightly on allowing myself to use the credit card, but still have been able to lower my overall amount)
Wifi/Cable/Landline: $64.99/month
Cellphone: Still on the parental plan, but will be transitioning off. I’m shopping around and have started to budget.
Subscriptions: Apple storage - $2.99/month; Netflix- $8.99; (even though I’ve been able to be at home much much more, we still get a monthly barkbox for the toys; Spotify Premium - $9.99/month. Headspace - $14.99/month. Renaissance Periodization - $16.19/month
Laundry (if you pay per load): $40/month. I put aside $10 per paycheck.
Gym membership $75/month - I budget this much for my ROMWOD and Movement Vault monthly subscriptions. This also covers my monthly subscription for my WHOOP band. My retail side gig also provides $225/month to work out. This covers my monthly membership to my crossfit gym, as well as extra megaformer classes. $32.63/month for WHOOP; $13.95/month for ROMWOD; $9.99/month for Movement vault
Pet expenses: $150/month - includes pet insurance. This is what I put into my budget for insurance, food, grooming etc.) Barkbox 31.54/month; Pet insurance $79.24
Car payment / insurance / average gas:$100/month (as my dad plans on retiring within the next year, he will be signing over my car to me, meaning that I will be taking on my insurance. I fully acknowledge that this has been nice to not have to worry about, and that my parents have been absolutely amazing. The current annual insurance for my car looks like it will be around $450. Future money diaries will take this into account.
Renter insurance: $12.50/month
Average groceries / household supply spend; Looking at YNAB, my average spend has been just over $700/month. This seems insanely high for one person, but I do also follow a RP meal plan, meaning that I tend to eat A LOT to fuel my workouts. I also haven’t gone out basically at all ….
Regular therapy: N/A
Charitable Giving: $75/avg. August-Dec 2020 (Much of this was “rage” donating in the run up to the election)
Annual Expenses:
YNAB (You Need A Budget): $83.99/year
NB: Anytime I leave my house, I am masked, including gym visits. It’s honestly not terrible once you find a mask that works for you!
Day 1: Friday
5:45am: Alarm goes off and I get up to put the kettle on to start coffee. Today is a weigh in and weekly review for my meal/training plan, so I enter my numbers and see what my upcoming week will look like as far as my macros. I notice that my chest/shoulder are sore, and hurt when I take a deep breath, but assume that I just slept on my arm wrong. I take out the dog, feed him, and head out to my weightlifting class.
7:30am: Nope, not just sleeping on it wrong. I make it through the lifting portion, but when we start the metcon, I have to stop because it hurts too much to take a really deep breath, instead stretching and cheering everyone else on. Annoyed, but hopefully it’s nothing too crazy. I think it’s just a strain from my muscle up drills the day before. Once I get home, I make breakfast - a savory oatmeal with oats, cheese, chicken sausage, egg whites, and mushrooms, topped with a fried egg and za’atar seasoning from Trader Joe’s. YUM. I log into work and get settled in for a 2 hour (ugh) staff meeting.
11:00am: Finally done with that. Thank goodness for my camera getting to be off. I take a shower and get into “work” clothes - aka lululemon from top to bottom (align leggings, ebb to street crop tank, and a sit in lotus wrap). Back to work until it’s time for lunch, which I have just after noon (rice, sweet potatoes, bell peppers, and ground beef, topped with avocado). Work continues afterwards.
2:00pm: Time for work #2! It’s a fairly uneventful (and slow) afternoon/evening, which is ok after the craziness of the holiday season. And I only have to tell 2 people to put their masks on over their nose and they don’t give me an attitude - woohoo! Around 5 I eat my food on my 10 minute break - another taco-ish bowl, just without the avocado from earlier. I get out from work at 7:30pm.
8:00pm: Home, take the pooch out and feed him and make my casein hot chocolate (casein protein is a slower digesting type vs. whey and it’s my evening “meal” most of the time) plus a couple dark chocolate peanut butter cups. I facetime my Mom briefly and then we each put on our respective Star Wars shows - she and my Dad are watching the Mandolorian (they just got Disney+), and I’m deep into season 4 of the Clone Wars. Bedtime routine starts at 9:30 with a couple of melatonin gummies and I brush my teeth and wash my face (eye makeup remover, then Neutrogena foaming cleanser, and a nighttime moisturizer from Aldi). Snuggle up with the dog and a heating pad with a Headspace night sounds playing.
Daily Total: $0
Day 2: Saturday
5:50am: NO. It’s like 30 minutes before I want to wake up...NO.
6:10am: Uggggggh
6:20am: FINE. Dog outside, then fed. I make coffee and another savory oatmeal (AMAZING - same as yesterday, just no bell peppers). Catch up on podcasts and my YNAB budget. In happiest news, I can take a full big breath without that weird pain from yesterday! Yay!
10:00am: Home from my workout, which went amazingly - I love a good long chipper of a workout! I take the dog out for a little cold weather walk and then make my post-workout meal - Kodiak chocolate chip pancakes with blueberries! (use 1 egg and almond milk to make the pancakes and it fits my post-workout macros: 35P, 10F, 65C). I follow this with a cuddle session with the dog while watching Marple episodes and drinking coffee. I also add items to my lululemon shopping cart and exit out of it before I can spend money. While I get a great discount (especially on markdowns), I know I don’t really NEED anything, so I don’t get anything.
1:00pm: Off to the mall for work. I stop on the way to fill the gas tank ($25). It’s a busy day, but a good one - during my break I eat my taco bowl (rice, sweet potatoes, ground beef, peppers and avocado). I work until 7:30pm.
8:00pm: Home, dog out, casein hot chocolate - the usual. I’m nothing if not a creature of habit. I pull out a Trader Joe’s chocolate croissant to prove overnight in the oven. Bedtime is around 10pm.
Daily Total: $25
Day 3: Sunday
7:50am: Whoooops, I intended to wake up around 7:15, but I didn’t actually set the alarm. Luckily the dog wakes me up with a polite whine - I take him out, make coffee and a bowl of oatmeal (oats, almond milk, egg whites, topped with blueberries), and head to my workout around 9.
11:00am: 2 workout classes later, I’m home - post workout meal is the aforementioned chocolate croissant, and a little egg scramble of egg whites, mushrooms, chicken sausage and broccoli. The afternoon is spent with old Miss Marple episodes on Amazon Prime, combined with laundry and apartment cleaning.
3:00pm: I made a quick loaf of bread (2 hrs of rising, then shaping) and put it in the oven. Happily it turns out pretty damn tasty - I make Trader Joe’s Cippino (seafood soup) and have that with toasted fresh bread around 4/4:30pm. A Clone Wars marathon ensues - the Bills are playing in the AFC championship tonight, so the city is basically a giant ball of nerves. I don’t watch the games (and haven’t all season - mostly because I don’t have all the apps/cable), but I follow the score on my phone while watching many (MANY) episodes of Clone Wars. I facetime my mom and dad around 7 after they finish the Mandolorian and we can all squeal with excitement.
9:00pm: Melatonin gummies, contacts out, teeth brushed, face washed, bedtime.
Daily Total: $0
Day 4: Monday
5:45am: Awake, coffee, take the dog out, head to crossfit.
7:30am: Home, dog out again, then breakfast (homemade toast, everything but the bagel smoked salmon, scrambled egg+egg whites) and more coffee. I login to work at 8am, and get the morning podcasts going (Up First, the Daily, Post Reports, the Intelligence).
10:00am: I place a Target pickup order for the snacks for our break area at the mall (seltzer, peanut butter crackers, cookies, granola bars - all single serving packs). I will be reimbursed for this by the store. ($39.57 - I get a notice that an item isn’t available after I place the order...oh well)
11:00am: I’m traveling out of state for a couple of days - it’s a long awaited tattoo coverup (don’t get a tattoo for a significant other….I knew not to do this...and yet I still did), so I make my list of items to pack and things to remember to do (take out trash, do all my dishes, etc). I will be driving to my destination (Indiana), staying at a hotel by myself, going to the tattoo shop (masked), and back to the hotel. Not telling friends I’m there, not going out anywhere. And I’ve scheduled a test for 4 days after my return, per NYS rules. If I could make the drive nonstop, I would, but your girl isn’t giving herself a UTI lol. I’ll be masked and sanitized anytime I step out of my vehicle. Still super nervous, but getting this tattoo covered up is like….the final FINAL step. I also take a shower (finally, yes I’m gross and have been sitting in my workout clothes since I got home - god help me if I ever live with a human again lol).
2:00pm: Time for head out for work! On the way, I pick up my previously mentioned Target order, and also pick up meals for my trip from a local meal prep place - I get a bunch of great stuff (2 breakfasts, 2 dinners, 1 lunch plus energy bites for the car), plus it means that I can just hermit it up in the hotel room apart from the actual tattoo appointment. ($62.68). I get to the mall early before my shift starts - since I know I’ll have a tub in the hotel room, and I don’t have one in my apartment, I get a couple of bath bombs and lotion from Lush ($25.93) and a whole bunch of sheet masks from Sephora ($25.01). Then time for work - It’s a fairly quick shift, which is nice, not too terribly busy and we get a lot done. And people at the mall are generally not pills today - epic win!
8:15pm: Home from work - take the dog out and have a little evening meal of homemade soup from my co-worker (it’s a kale sausage soup her husband makes and it is AMAZING) and the rest of my homemade bread. I finish packing up and the poor pup definitely knows something is up. Bedtime around 10pm.
Daily Total: $153.19
Day 5: Tuesday
5:45am: Alarm, dog, coffee. Rather than dirtying dishes, I heat up one of the prepped breakfasts I brought (a breakfast sandwich with chicken, which is actually quite tasty - plus some blueberries). I get the car loaded up with my stuff and the dog - he’s staying with my parents while I’m gone - and head out by 7:15am. After I drop him off I top off my gas tank ($14.10), and also get a couple of bubly waters and a can of death wish coffee for the road ($6.25).
12:00pm: Lunch stop at panera - fuji apple chicken salad and a cup of chicken noodle soup - drive thru and eaten in the car ($10.94, but I have a gift card). Road Trip Podcasts: You’re Wrong About and Noble Blood.
3:00pm: Gas stop (there’s also a few bathroom stops, but since I didn’t spend anything, it’s not terribly relevant, right? :) ) ($27.01).
5:30pm: Arrival! Check in to the hotel - masked front desk employee, check. Bring my stuff up to my room, and jackpot - biiiiiiiiig tub. Looks like those bath bombs were a solid choice! Open up the work laptop to see if there is anything urgent - nothing crazy - and decide which meal I want for dinner. Bourbon Chicken with Broccoli and Sweet Potatoes it is. Plus a Sparkling Apple Cider vinegar beverage (ginger and lemon) from Trader Joes. Before I eat, I do a lower body focused stretching routine from ROMWOD since I spent so long in the car.
7:30pm: Bath Bomb, Face Mask, Feet Mask, and finished Night Stalker on Netflix. Since I’ll be quarantining until I get a negative COVID test after my trip, I order 10 meals through the same meal prep company that I got my travel meals from ($88.43 - includes both delivery fee and tip). They will be delivered on Sunday.
Daily Total: $146.73
Day 6: Wednesday
6:00am - I had intended to sleep longer, but my body is like - nope, you’re waking up at the same time no matter what. Coffee (keurig in the hotel room - ick) plus a prepped breakfast (a goat cheese egg white scramble with sweet potatoes - which is delicious). Morning podcasts and I open up the work laptop. Since I’m awake I guess.
7:30am: Hotel room workout - I do yesterday’s workout from my gym, with a few modifications, but it still feels great to move after sitting in the car for so long! Shower afterwards, then food (Mexican Taco Bowl!) and work.
10:30am: Squuuuueeee it’s time for my tattoo. I double mask up, drive through for a Starbucks order ($4.74 - paid for on my Starbucks app with previously loaded funds) and head to the shop! I already paid my deposit and took advantage of a gift card sale before Christmas so I don’t owe anything additional today. We do linework, shading, and partial color. It’s going to take 2 appointments to do the full thing, so we make my next appointment for May (augh, I cannot wait!). My coverup is over black text, so a cover up involves a LOT of layering of color. I’m impressed that I still have stamina after not getting a tattoo for nearly 3 years.This is going to be BEAUTIFUL.
2:30pm: After my tattoo appointment, I make a quick stop at CVS (still double masked!) to pick up aquaphor, orange dial soap, ibuprofen, and toothpaste (cause naturally that’s the one thing I forgot to pack - d’oh) ($22.00). I make a curbside pickup order for Panera - another soup and salad combo ($10.55 - again paid for with gift cards!). I head back to my hotel room, eat, put on more podcasts (Planet Money, Can He Do That, Code Switch) and log onto work. An uneventful afternoon follows.
6:00pm: Facetime call with my mom, then dinner and various true crime documentaries on Netflix and Pinterest browsing because as per usual, now I want allll the tattoos. I also put in an order for a grocery pickup on my way home (coffee, coffee creamer, fruit, etc) ($66.82). I try to make a testing appointment through NYS for my return COVID test on Monday, but the automated system keeps putting me in the first available, which is Friday….I’ll try to schedule again on Friday so that the timing works. Bedtime tattoo routine of wash, aquaphor and ibuprofen, as well as a sheet face mask. Sleep around 10:00pm.
Daily Total: $104.11
Day 7: Thursday
6:00am: Welp, up and at em! I finish packing all my stuff, check out of the hotel and warm up the car. I head out around 7:00am. Top off the gas tank ($12.80) and I also add $15 to my Starbucks card and drive thru a Starbucks (Spinach Feta Wrap + Cafe Misto with almond milk). Then it’s time for podcasts and lots of driving. My mom had suggested a podcast from Serial - S*%*Town. IT’S AMAZING and this drive has never gone so fast!
11:00am: (or sometime around this time) Stop for gas ($27.01) and another Starbucks stop ($15 reload) to get another misto, a bottle of water, and a fruit/cheese/hard boiled egg box.
3:00pm: I was going to try to make it all the way without stopping for anything else, but my stomach is about to eat itself. I stop at a Tim Hortons about 45 minutes away from my parents’ house and get timbits and a hot chocolate (which is gross) ($6.66 - eeep). I get to my parents’ house - my mom and dad stay upstairs and in the basement respectively while I use the bathroom and retrieve a very happy pup. Once I get everything out to the car, my mom and dad come outside (double masked, as am I) and we quickly wave and air hug from a distance. On the way home, I drive through the grocery pickup and get my groceries.
5:30pm: Finally home. The dog is very happy to be home too - my mom said when she would come into the bedroom where he was, he would look at her and be - “oh…..just you…”. Such a momma’s boy :) Dinner is actual food (the rest of the kale sausage soup). I also put together a batch of cranberry almond biscotti (based off the Ina Garten cherry pistachio biscotti) - the apartment smells delicious. Settling in for post-travel isolation lol.
9:30pm: Melatonin gummies, tattoo upkeep, and then bedtime with the dog!
Daily Total: $76.47
Weekly Total: $505.50
Food & Drink: $326.64
Fun & Entertainment: $0
Home & Health: $22.00
Clothes & Beauty: $50.94
Transport: $105.92
Reflections:
First, GODDAMN I AM SO EXCITED TO PAY OFF THIS STUDENT LOAN. Just paid another $200 on it this morning, so we’re under $800!! If you hear an excited scream from the Western New York area next month, don’t worry, it’s just me.
Second, this was a higher spend week than usual, but I’m really proud to have budgeted for all of it. I had basically prepaid for the tattoo (on the gift card) and there’s still leftover for my next appointment. I had also budgeted and saved for the increased amount of gas and food.
Third, hopefully this isn’t too boring. My life pre-pandemic wasn’t terribly interesting, and it certainly isn’t now lol. I’m hoping to continue my debt payoff progress by finishing paying off my credit card debt in 2021, and start saving my 3-6 month emergency fund before starting that house down payment savings! I’m even starting to allow myself to start actually looking at Zillow.
I have been isolating since I got back - just drove through and got my COVID test, so fingers crossed for a quick reply!
Lastly, the coverup tattoo is going to be beautiful. I can’t wait for it to be finished!
Thanks for reading this whole thing!

The Seed Bazaar, MIDNIGHT 12:01 AM EST, 12/05/2020, PREMIUM STORE CLOSING FOR THE REGULAR SIDE. MANGO ISLE NOT AVAILABLE TILL NEXT YEAR.

INCASE YOU MISSED DISAPPEARING ACT, "THIS IS THE FIRST IN A SERIES OF OFFICIAL COLLABORATIONS" 👀.

STORE CLOSED

Read This

When purchasing NightOwl seeds from The Seed Bazaar on 12/05 at 12 AM, WHATEVER IS IN YOUR CART, ISN'T RESERVED.
It's best to purchase what you want FAST, everything is and always has been limited in quantity. Don't leave the item(s) in your cart and go check your plants and start some LST or a res change, don't go start cleaning your tent, CHECK YOUR ITEMS OUT FAST.
Orders can be combined to help with shipping, this should help with ordering fast, and comments have been enabled at checkout too 👍.
Last tip make an account ahead of time, and login. Should help speed up the checkout process.
Price per pack is $50 USD. Website and packaging say 3 seeds but typically get 5 (rare cases you get 6 sometimes 4, but you paid for 3) no option for other pack sizes, plus free international shipping.

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F.A.Q

"My pack has a blank label, how do I know what I have?"

Those are the "Secret Owl Society" packs, they come labeled with UV ink. Daz almost always provides a small blacklight keychain, use it to reveal the pack name.

"Is there any freebies?"

Like Mephisto, Nightowl will give you 2 extra seeds on 3 seed pack orders. Same cultivar. No freebie tiers like Mephisto.

"I got a confirmation email, it still says "processing", should I be worried?"

As long as you have a confirmation email, then there's nothing to worry about your order has been received.

"How do I register for a free account?"

There should be a sign-in button at the bottom of the page, or the NightOwl Store page. Look at this image to help.

"What do I do with my scratch card, or free pack card?"

If you're claiming this for the drop, select mail in cash or cheque during checkout, then follow the instructions in your email on where to mail it to.
If you're not mailing it in for the drop and are curious, it works for any future NightOwl drop specifically on TSB.

"Do I need TSB Premium to make a purchase or do I purchase through Premium?"

No, you don't need TSB Premium to make a purchase. This was an option for paying members to get a chance to access Mango Isle a year early, it's still set to release sometime in 2021.

Order related issue?

Email [[email protected]](mailto:[email protected])
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Descriptions

The first in a series of official collaborations, I'm proud to introduce to you Disappearing Act!
Disappearing Act
Blue Power OG x Wizard's Apprentice
50/50 Sativa/Indica
70-80 days from sprout
1.5-3 ounce average
3 Feminized Seeds
Expect medium-sized plants with stout branches that reach up to the shoulders of the main cola. Extremely dense and frosty flowers that leave your fingers greasy with scents predominantly of old school blueberry, kush, and gas. If you've been lucky enough to grow the Blue Power OG from @RoninGarden then you know just how magical this cross will be!
With the absolute least amount of detail let me tell you a little bit about my friend Ronin, our past, and why you should be supporting this dude. First off, he does the real work and breeds fire autos, so let’s get that out of the way. This was the foundation of our friendship and our collaborative efforts.
Ronin was one of the first people from a grow forum that I had the opportunity to meet in real life. In 2015/16 I was misled (*conned) into moving from the east coast to Colorado by someone that I had trusted. To spare you the details, I was left homeless and broke in a small mountain town, I knew nothing but my grow equipment, genetics, station wagon, and dog. Ronin, being the genuinely good dude that he is, offered me room and space to grow so that I could get back on my feet. He also took in my dog as if it was his own, and she is forever grateful to him as well.
Eventually, I moved in with one of my best buddy’s in the whole world and things were great until we ran into some problems trying to switch the lease over from the previous tenant. At that point, we were faced with a major rent increase or eviction. We chopped the grow, cleaned up, and went our separate ways. With nowhere to go Ronin took me in once again. Not long after that, I decided to move back east to pursue a different opportunity.
Living back in Massachusetts things didn’t work out the way that I had wanted them to, then one day I get a call from the Colorado best buddy previously mentioned saying his roommate was moving out and that he had a really nice space for rent to live and grow. Perfect! This was around Thanksgiving of 2018 that I moved back out to Colorado and got all set up to rock. On New Year’s day, I found him passed away.
I was literally broken.
Up until this point I had been living off of my less than minimum wage salary from another company and working dead-end jobs to keep the lights on to keep moving projects forward. There is no money in doing the real work, which is why so few people actually do it. I had no money, nowhere to go, and no idea what I was going to do. I felt like quitting and walking away from everything.
Once again, Ronin took me in.
I have been homeless three times in my life. All three times Ronin has been there for me. If there was ever someone that I think deserves the support and spotlight for his auto breeding and general amazingness it is my friend, Ronin. Night Owl would not exist if it were not for both Ronin and Jason from Darkhorse telling me not to give up, and providing space for a down and out breeder with nothing in the world but his plants and his dog. I will always have love for and support these dudes and I wholeheartedly encourage you to do the same.
Sage Scout
Forum Stomper x Wizard’s Apprentice
60/40 Sativa/Indica
70-80 days from sprout
2-4 ounce average
3 Feminized Seeds
Sage Scout has been on the to-do list since the F2 stage of Wizard’s Apprentice. I knew immediately that these two would pair exquisitely, and I’m proud to finally have enough available to share with you! Expect a medium to large frame plant, with side branches that can grow to be almost as tall as the main cola (and will most typically require staking during late flower). Dense clusters of OG/Cookie structured flowers cap off the top of each branch, with golfball-sized nugs running down towards the stalk. Another heavily trichome covered plant that will lend herself to all types of extraction, producing thick earthy and sage flavors that are more and more difficult to find these days, accompanied by a hit of sweet lime and fuel. The Wizard adds a good bit of stretch, more flowering sites, and some Sativa dominance to the Forum Stomper’s already impressive pedigree. You’ll definitely want to have carbon filters if you’re running her someplace that odor might be of concern. Oh, and double-bagging for road trips would be a safe bet.
Happy Holidays everyone!
Mango Isle *PREMIUM MEMBERS ONLY* NEXT YEAR
Mango Smile x Zamaldelica Express
75/25 Sativa/Indica
80-90 days from sprout
2-4 ounce average
3 Feminized Seeds
Expect large, easy growing plants, and ample satellite branching with elongated colas filling their top halves. This true tropical F1 hybrid will transport you to sunny days on beaches far away, leaving you uplifted, clear-headed, and relaxed without sacrificing motivation. Flavors range from citrusy mango to blue and red berries with an exotic alcohol in the background. She is sure to please the Sativa lovers in your life and is definitely one to have around for the private reserve jars. The official release will be sometime in 2021, but here is the sneak peek exclusively for you guys. Thank you for your support!
Owl Pellets
??? x ???
???
???
Take a dive into the unknown! 10+ feminized autoflower seeds to be enjoyed by the adventurous type. This mix contains lots of one off crosses, a few classics, and a whole assortment of excellence. If you'd like to add a little unknown excitement to your garden than these are for you.
What to expect:From cosmic queen and some one offs with her, to Tyrone Stomper F6 and everything in between. Lots of fun alien and chem crosses as well. Probably about 40 different varieties total, lots of one offs that did not yield enough seeds to make an official release. Lots of fire to be found, for sure!

Halloween Leftovers

Spotless Mind
Fugue State x Cosmic Queen
True F1 Hybrid Limited Edition
75/25 Sativa/Indica
75-85 days from sprout
2-4 ounces average
3 Feminized Seeds
Large, easy growing sativa dominant plants with heavy branching and intense crystal production. Super sweet, peppery, and buttery flavors accompany an intensely uplifting head high and an electrically charged body feel. The Spotless Mind name gives a tip of the cap to the Amnesia Haze in her heritage, which carries through to this cross. Overindulge and you will find yourself becoming forgetful and may experience recollection difficulties, but in a fun way. She has also been known to encourage bedroom activities, making for a nice nightstand stash. If you are looking for an anytime sativa that won’t make your mind race aimlessly, look no further. The same reversal that was used for Galaxy Brain and Cosmic Apprentice was also used for this Limited Edition.
Milk and Qookies
Forum Stomper x Cosmic Queen F4 *Quick Finish*
60/40 Sativa/Indica
65-75 days from sprout
1.5-3 ounce average
3 Feminized Seeds
Expect medium-sized bushes with stout branches that reach up and form a canopy surrounding the main cola. Incredibly resinous chunky white nugs and dark forest green foliage fade to the deepest purples and blacks under cooler temperatures. She will have true F1 hybrid vigor and produce a delicious mix of forum cookies and cosmic cream flavors along with an abundance of “fall off the stalk” gland heads that will put everything else around your trimbin to shame. Effects are stoney, both physically and mentally, without the couchlock. She could easily fill the role of all day/everyday smoke if you have a decent tolerance already. For the reversal I used a stocky, faster finishing Cosmic Queen as the pollen donor which will help add vigor and potency while keeping the stretch down.
Mango Sunrise *limited stock\*
Mango Smile x Cosmic Queen F4 *Super Sativa*
70/30 Sativa/Indica
75-85 days from sprout
2-4 ounce average
3 Feminized Seeds
Expect large, easy growing plants with sturdy branching and individual bud sites running their length, met with a small cola cluster at their end. This true F1 hybrid has beautiful tropical citrus flavors that will send you off on an island vacation, while the effects will leave you physically and mentally heightened and ready for anything the day throws your way! Extremely pleasant all day/everyday smoke, sure to be a crowd-pleaser. The Cosmic Queen reversal used for this cross was what I consider the super sativa expression of CQ. Tall, stretchy, thinner leaves, incredibly sweet resin, bag appeal, pest, and pm resistant with an elongated bud structure that is excellent for outdoors and in. Don’t miss out!
---------------------------------
Bluejayin' add-on:
If you read the short story in the description for Dissapearing Act, and want to give Ronin a chance, Binary Selections just released a limited time only WhiteXmas Auto on DCSE. It's not an "official collaboration", but Daz fully supports Ronin and said go buy them without hesitation.
"5%DCSEEDS" coupon code, unsure if it still works.
WhiteXmas Auto: BlkMrr x White Stomper

Binary Selections is excited to introduce the first of their limited edition Seasonal Selections, WhiteXmas Auto!
Available exclusively from D.C. Seed Exchange, WhiteXmas is an F1 cross of Binary Selections BlkMrr crossed to Night Owl’s White Stomper. Both parents are large structured frost monsters with each having its own unique terpene profile. A fusion of flavors can be found in this strain. Due to its large size training is highly recommended for optimum yields.
WhiteXmas is a Season Selection and will only be made available during the month of December, a seasonal flavor to savor!
Sprout to harvest: 75-80 days
Size: Medium to Large (the bigger the pot the bigger the fruit)
5 Feminized Autoflowering Seeds per pack!
PLUS, all WhiteXmas packs will come with an extra feminized Funkadelic (Landlocked Funk x Nurple f1) Auto seed!

I was visiting my parents for Christmas when he stopped by. It was early in the morning, around 2am or 3am, and my little brother and I were watching holiday specials of some old TV shows. Remember back when you’d watch TV shows as they aired on a television—rather than streaming it from your phone while on the toilet or in bed—and every family sitcom would be airing its holiday episode? That’s what my brother and I were doing, when we heard something land softly on the roof.
Now, my brother is twelve, and while he can be a little “aloof” and empty-headed about certain things, he had never once believed in Santa growing up. My parents tried to tell him, I even tried to convince him myself; but he never bought it, so we dropped the charade on his seventh Christmas. I believed, like most kids, for the first few years of my life. And, like most kids, the truth—the alleged truth—was unceremoniously revealed to me by spotting my father munching on cookies early in the morning, sipping on milk, and wearing an expression that intimated nothing but exhaustion and parental regret. So, “Santa” became Dad, and I ceased to believe in the mythic Gift-bearer from then on—until a few hours ago.
Even though we both knew that it was impossible, or at least improbable, we simultaneously exclaimed, “There’s someone on the roof.” Our parents were fast asleep upstairs, having made the climb well before midnight, since neither had been off work on Christmas Eve. We knew that it couldn’t be them, and I was fairly confident that no suburb-friendly animal would produce such distinct sounds; certainly not any animal that skulked about at that hour amidst several feet of snow and freezing temperatures. A series of noises, which were inarguably the footfalls of a full-sized person, went across our roof; heard not only through the ceiling, but through the space and ceiling of the floor above as well.
I muted the TV, and signaled for my brother to be quiet. Now, neither of us had had any thoughts about the potential intruder being Santa himself; the noises had registered in my brain as those of a burglar, or some other night-skulking person. My brother hadn’t looked scared; in fact, he looked almost excited at the prospect of some intruder walking about on top of the house. His face, partially lit by the glow of the silenced TV, bore an unmistakable grin.
Listening intently, we heard the footsteps move back and forth, as if the person were looking for something. After a few moments of this, the steps stopped, and another sound was made—a sort of huff, as if the unknown person had made some great exertion. A second later, another sound issued from behind the house, near the kitchen door that lets out onto the backyard. I quickly turned off the TV, not wanting them to know that someone was awake inside—lest they become violent. I had to grab my brother’s arm before he sprinted to the kitchen. Pulling him behind me, and reminding him to be quiet, I led him towards the kitchen; grabbing a statuette from a nearby table on my way there.
For whatever reason, perhaps some inkling of excitement on my part as well, I hadn’t thought to notify my parents. I could’ve easily called or texted them, woken them up and informed them of what we had heard, then gone upstairs and convened with my father. But instead, rather stupidly, I brought my brother with me into the kitchen to further observe the potentially dangerous stranger.
None of the lights had been on in the house at that time, and we didn’t turn any on. There were no Christmas lights in our backyard, since a wood’s tree-line serves as a natural backwall for all the houses on our street; no houses behind us to impress. The only illumination in that area was the moon’s soft, ivory light, which fell into the kitchen through a slit in the curtains of the window above the sink. Before he could prop himself up on the counter and gaze out, I silently but forcibly situated my brother out of the window’s view, and peered through myself.
Once I had gotten my fill of the view, I gently closed the curtain, picked my brother up—ignoring his physical protests—and carried him into the living room, where I practically hurled him into a coat closet. Before he could audibly protest, I clamped my hand over his mouth and pushed myself inside the closet alongside him, and closed the door. A few seconds later, there was the unprecedented yet immediately identifiable sound of the kitchen door being forced open.
I felt my brother’s body go rigid, and heard his heartbeat begin its competition with my own for audible supremacy amidst the silence of the closet. To give him some sense of understanding—though no expectations of peace—I leaned over and whispered into his ear, “There was a very fat man with a battering ram in our backyard. He’s in the house now. Don’t make a sound.”
I didn’t mention the eight hulking forms I saw tethered to a large vehicle; a monstrous and antlered pack, at the front of which stood, with a dark mammalian confidence, a crimson-nosed beast straight out of some execrable nightmare.
And, if any doubt had flared up in my brother’s brain at my words, it was immediately dispelled by the heavy footfalls heard from within the kitchen. A great weight was being carried on those large feet, and the occasional rasp of breath attested to the immensity of the body being conveyed. The intruder was heard leaving the kitchen, and I felt myself trying to silence—with sense and nerve impressions I hadn’t thought existed—the various internal organs and processes of my body as they passed by the closet.
Contained in complete darkness, with only a few inches separating us from the portly invader, my brother and I listened with terror trickling into our bloodstreams; freezing us in place. The intruder seemed to walk about the living room, as if they were again searching for something. This time, however, they apparently found what they were looking for, or found a reason for its absence, because they let out a sigh; though I couldn’t tell if it was in relief or dissatisfaction; the inflection was rendered indecipherable by the barrier that was the door.
My brother shook beside me, his excitement at the perilous circumstances now replaced with a terror that seemed to intensify with each second that passed. I could barely keep myself together, having absolutely no experience with home invasions, and doubting the defensive efficacy of the statuette I’d snagged earlier. The intruder walked around a bit more—although their steps sounded more like stomps—then trudged back into the kitchen. I thought—prayed—that they might then leave, but I heard the sound of the fridge opening, and objects being moved around. My brother suddenly gripped my arm with a fierce tightness and pulled me down towards him. Breaking my order of complete silence, he whispered into my ear, “I have a Lunchable in there!”
Without being loud enough to reveal our location, I hissed into his ear for him to shut up, and gave him a soft jab to the ribs for good measure. He got the message, and again went rigid. Seconds later, our apparently hungry intruder re-entered the living room, and he passed by just close enough to the door for me to hear his grumbling. These are his words, verbatim:
“No chimney, making me get out the ram and break in like some thieving elf. No cookies, have to my make own food. What kind of place is this? What’s happened to the spirit, to tradition? What a load of bullshit.”
Even though I couldn’t see him, I knew my brother’s mouth had fallen agape; mine sure had. The intruder, the person who had first climbed about our roof and then broken in through the kitchen door, was none other than Santa freaking Claus himself.
The most bizarre thing of it all was what happened next. I heard the straining of leather, the creaking of springs, followed by a great, sonorous sigh. Then, some more unintelligible grumbling, and finally the sudden sounds of pre-recorded laughter and over-acted exasperation. Santa had sat on our couch and turned on the TV.
Luckily, the couch faces the TV, which is on the wall opposite that of the closet. And even more fortunately, the house wasn’t yet old enough—or rather, the closet hadn’t seen enough use—for the hinges to squeak or whine. I opened the door, silently, and peered towards the couch. Two forms rested there: One, clearly inhuman—and inanimate—sat on the right; a great bundle of something, which I immediately guessed to be his sack of toys. The form on the left was clearly alive, and though its size practically dwarfed the couch on which it sat, it was still humanoid in shape. The head, topped by that unmistakable cap, gently rocked, as Santa ate and chuckled at the hijinks of the sitcom family.
I felt dizzy, not just from having held my breath for prolonged intervals, but from the unreality of the situation. Sitting only a few feet away was a man of legend—or some exalted elf; I’ve never been quite sure of what exactly Santa is within his mythology.
I suppose that my age prevented me from being overwhelmed by the shock of the circumstances, because I suddenly felt the limp body of my much younger brother fall against me. The kid had actually fainted at the sight of Santa Claus. I caught him and set him down gently on the closet floor, whilst cursing him for taking the easy way out of the terrifying situation.
The TV, while not loud, had masked any sounds that might’ve issued from the closet. Once my brother had been nestled in my mom’s winter coat, I returned my attention to Santa. He seemed fairly comfortable, and had even propped his feet up on the coffee table during my lapse in observation. His enormous black boots shined in the light of the TV, while his crimson pants looked agonizingly tight, wrapped around those tree trunks he had for legs.
The most amazing, unsettling, and unforeseen experience in the world quickly became boring, as Santa did nothing but eat my brother’s Lunchable—and what looked like an entire pack of bologna—while watching holiday specials of sitcoms. He’d occasionally comment on apparent inaccuracies in the fictional portrayals of himself and his wintry workshop—which, I guess, is actually an indomitable fortress—but otherwise, my fascination with his presence diminished; and my need to visit the bathroom grew. A touch of the terror remained, mostly because of his monstrous size and the way the couch sagged beneath him. I also hadn't forgotten those horrific beasts outside, eerily awaiting the return of their master.
Being unable to wait any longer, I decided to risk leaving the closet and going to the bathroom, while Santa was still absorbed in his TV viewing. I ensured that my brother was tucked well beneath the overhanging coats and jackets, then opened the closet door just enough for me to slip out. Immediately discarding the downstairs bathroom as an option, I considered risking a climb up the steps to use the one upstairs. However, unlike the closet hinges, the stairs had seen frequent use during my time living in the home, and would creak and grown beneath the smallest burdens of weight.
The only plausible option was to venture outside and do my business there.
The front door lied only a few feet away from the couch, and I knew that I wouldn’t have been able to avoid detection even in complete silence. Santa’s nightmarish reindeer awaited him in the backyard, and even if they were perfectly docile creatures, I didn’t want to look upon those ultra-terrestrial forms if I didn’t have to. So, with only one option of egress left, I went down into the basement and climbed out its window there, which lets out on the side of the house. There, hidden by darkness, I relieved myself. I hadn’t made a sound, and had quickly kicked fresh snow over the mound I soiled, and yet something had scented me. I heard powerful nostrils sniff the air, and the subsequent guttural exhalations of some bestial creature as it communicated its olfactory findings to other beasts, who responded in kind. Before I could scramble back through the basement window, terror seized me, as I deduced the origins of those animal sounds.
The monstrous reindeer in the back of the house.
Panic and the frigid cold worked in tandem to paralyze me, and I could do nothing but shiver as shadows were thrown into the moon-lit space between our house and the neighbors’. A red light then fell upon the space, morbidly illumining the darkness, and the light’s source then came into view. A bestial visage, unlike any naturally born animal, glared at me with dark and baleful eyes. A crown of twisted and sharp-edged horns gleamed in the light, looking like blood-covered daggers affixed to the massive, super-mammalian head. The mouth opened and hot air jetted out, dispersing the air-suspended frost that had gathered about everything. The body to which this head was attached was powerfully built, grander in stature and larger in musculature than any strain of deer I’d ever seen. Behind his hulking form, other Titan Cervidae gathered, and a gallery of eyes stared at me through the red-tinged gloom.
Standing before that herd inspired a horror so potent, so seizing, that I felt dis-possessed of my own body. I was transfixed by those piercing stares, which gazed upon me with incomprehensible yet assuredly unpreferable expressions. The power that radiated from their forms, the nigh supernatural light which burned in those fierce bestial eyes; I was a wretch beneath their scope; all notions of human superiority were blasted away, and the very concept of human intellect then seemed some laughable and absurd thing.
In a moment of fright that I’ll never forget, regardless of any plagues of memory that might assail my mind in old age, I watched the foremost deer smile wickedly, and whisper—in human tongue—my full name. That loathsome and devilish grin was just as human as the words it had spoken; the eyes seemed to stare with a cognizance befitting that of an intelligent being, not some hyper-bred animal. The horror of that moment climaxed, my body shook violently and my mind began a psychological fragmentation. I might’ve lost consciousness, or even complete sanity, if that herd hadn’t receded back behind the house. The leader, apparently having satisfied itself with its terrifying behavior, made some grunt which its inferiors had understood as a command to withdraw. The sanguine light dimmed, and the moon’s light—feeble in comparison— resumed its dominance of the endarkened space.
I was left alone again, and once my mind had recovered enough to command my limbs to motion, I re-entered the house through the basement window, and quietly cried to myself for several minutes before returning to the closet in which I had left my brother. Thankfully, Santa had remained oblivious to my departure and reentry.
After what had to have been an hour—during which I delicately worked to stifle my brother’s snoring without suffocating him—I watched Santa rise from the couch, wipe the crumbs from his coat, and stretch his legs. He dipped a fat mitted hand into the bag he had set beside him, and after rummaging around in it for what felt like another hour, he finally fished something out. Without any grace, or care for the product inside, he tossed a small box towards our Christmas tree in the corner of the living room. It was just one box, despite there being four people in the home. And yet I didn’t let my indignation get the better of me, and held my tongue while he slung his burden of gifts over his shoulder and stomped away.
I heard the fridge open again, as if he wanted to something for the road, and then the crunching of glass as he left through the open doorway of the kitchen.
I waited five minutes before leaving the closet. Tip-toeing around, I examined the kitchen door with dismay; it had been completely shattered, splintered to hundreds of fragments. Only someone of Herculean strength could’ve so totally obliterated that door. Hoping that my parents would agree, and not think me some kind of lunatic, I ran upstairs and told them everything I’d seen.
They followed me downstairs, neither really comprehending the flurry of words I spewed at them. I kicked the closet door as I passed it, which I deemed sufficient enough stimulus to wake up my peacefully dozing brother. My mom, who’d descended the stairs mumbling incoherently with one eye open, almost shattered all the windows in the house with the scream she let out upon entering the kitchen. My father swore, and my brother—having emerged from the closet—childishly repeated the swear; cackling at his profane mimicry. His humor was soon stamped out when he spotted the open fridge, now bereft of his beloved Lunchable.
His scream was harsher and louder than my mom’s.
Hours later, after the mess was cleaned up and the police had done their largely pointless questioning, we all sat down and opened up presents. None of us had mentioned the extra present to the police. The immaculate wrapping, the quality of the paper, the legendary signature; we all knew who it was from, and despite the damage and fright its sender had caused, we still wanted to see what was inside. The police—to whom we had failed to mention the actual identity of the intruder—would've taken the gift as evidence. My father, having a greater attention to detail than anyone else I know, had also gone out and obscured the spoor of those freakishly large beasts prior to the arrival of the police.
Once the ordinary presents had been opened, Santa’s gift was passed to me, and I gently undid the wrappings; careful not to bunch up the cloth or tear the paper. A plain black box soon came into view, and I opened this with trembling hands. All was silent, as I first removed a small card.
My heart nearly stopped and ceased to beat forevermore as I read the words inscribed in gold upon the white surface:
“Next time, just ask me to move my sack. I wouldn’t have minded your presence on the couch beside me. You needn’t watch over my shoulder from the shadows of your own house. And, next time, remember that hauling this damned bag around the world isn’t easy work. Put out some cookies, or maybe a sandwich. Anyway, these are for your TV remote. I had to press the buttons pretty hard at times, so I assumed you’d need some.
-Santa.”
Beneath the card, rolling around in the box as my shaking hands barely held onto it, were several AAA batteries.

This will be the last I'll post in-regards to NightOwl drops.From now on drop info will be posted in the NightOwlseeds subreddit
We can only pin 2 posts at a time, and it can get confusing for new and existing users.
I will be updating this thread throughout the day, check last edited.- NightOwl subreddit linked,

THE NIGHTOWL STORE IS CLOSED.

Link to The Seed Bazaar

F.A.Q

"My pack has a blank label, how do I know what I have?"

Those are the "Secret Owl Society" packs, they come labeled with UV ink. Daz almost always provides a small blacklight keychain, use it to reveal the pack name.

"Can I make multiple orders and get the tester pack?"

As long as the combined total is $250, and hasn't been shipped yet, then you get 1 tester pack ($500 for 2 tester packs).
A new bit of info, you get another tester pack per $250 spent, dealer's choice.

"Do I need to purchase on TSB Premium?

No, go to the regular store page

"Do I need TSB Premium to make a purchase?"

No, you don't need TSB Premium to make a purchase. This was an option for paying members to get a chance to access the drop early. Nothing was exclusive to premium, everyone has access to all the strains.

"I got a confirmation email, it still says "processing", should I be worried?"

As long as you have a confirmation email (maybe a paid email), then there's nothing to worry about your order has been received.

"How do I register for a free account?"

There should be a sign-in button at the bottom of the page, or the NightOwl Store page. Look at this image to help.

"Is there any freebies?"

Like Mephisto, Nightowl will give you 2 extra seeds on 3 seed pack orders. Same cultivar. No freebie tiers like Mephisto.

Order related issue?

Email [[email protected]](mailto:[email protected])
I will update with more FAQs as the day goes.

DROP DAY INFO NOW PAST

When purchasing NightOwl seeds from The Seed Bazaar on 10/10 at 12 AM, WHATEVER IS IN YOUR CART, ISN'T RESERVED.
NEW TIPS
ITEMS ARE ADDED/UPDATED ONE BY ONE.
THERE ARE TWO PAGES OF SEEDS.
IF YOU HAVE AN ISSUE WITH YOUR ORDER EMAIL [[email protected]](mailto:[email protected])
PREMIUM ISN'T NECESSARY.
It's best to purchase what you want FAST, everything is and always has been limited in quantity. Don't leave the item(s) in your cart and go check your plants and start some LST or a res change, don't go start cleaning your tent, CHECK YOUR ITEMS OUT FAST.
Orders usually are combined to help with shipping, this should help with ordering fast, and comments have been enabled at checkout too 👍.
Last tip, make an account ahead of time, and login. Should help speed up the checkout process.
Price per pack is $50 USD. Website and packaging say 3 seeds but typically get 5 no option for other pack sizes, plus free international shipping.
This is the LAST SCHEDULED DROP from NightOwl till Valentine's day, which is expected to have the new F4 photo to auto cultivars. This is if there aren't any delays or setbacks in the timeline.
The new NightOwl Sweater doesn't have a set date yet, could be some time in November.
Chocolates are for the US only, food and customs don't go together. I THINK Daz said put it in the comments if you'd like the chocolate and he'd get back to you to figure out how to ship it (might have to pay for packaging and postage).
Only If there are chocolates or ashtrays left, Daz will offer them up as an item on the seed bazaar for the cost of shipping which is usually around $15.
Seedopoly boards are being sent out, pieces won't go out till the New Year, and the prizes are US only.

Promotion:

• Spend $250 get an UNRELEASED TESTER PACK
• Spend $500 get 2 UNRELEASED TESTER PACKS

Tester packs are labeled, but unknown till you receive it.

Scratch Card Game

Match the Mummies, scratch card game *WHILE SUPPLIES LAST, 1st COME 1st SERVED\*

• Match 3 Mummies to win 25 off
• Match 5 Mummies to win $50 off
• Match 9 Mummies to win $200 off

Descriptions (Quick Description from Daz)

Limited Edition:

Galaxy Brain 1:30:00

Zamaldelica Express x Cosmic Queen
75/25 Sativa/Indica
75-80 days from sprout
A long time coming, the Galaxy Brain is finally here! These large, branchy plants are covered with frost from the stems up! Piercingly sweet fruit scents and mouth coating flavors accompany a soaring euphoric head high, along with a relaxing body effect that doesn’t hamper your daily activities. I’m expecting this one to become a staple in the autoflower connoisseur’s garden. The reversal used was selected from over 40 Cosmic Queens and was extremely sativa dominant. I used this same expression for an unreleased seed run a few years back and she produced some of the most exquisitely beautiful and flavorful flowers. The female used was extremely pungent, with sappy and bulbous resin heads that stink up the whole room when burst. She also had extremely fat calyxes, providing massive amounts of surface area for the resin heads to call home.

Spotless Mind 1:39:00

Fugue State x Cosmic Queen
True F1 Hybrid Limited Edition
75/25 Sativa/Indica
75-85 days from sprout
2-4 ounces average
3 Feminized Seeds
Large, easy growing sativa dominant plants with heavy branching and intense crystal production. Super sweet, peppery, and buttery flavors accompany an intensely uplifting head high and an electrically charged body feel. The Spotless Mind name gives a tip of the cap to the Amnesia Haze in her heritage, which carries through to this cross. Overindulge and you will find yourself becoming forgetful and may experience recollection difficulties, but in a fun way. She has also been known to encourage bedroom activities, making for a nice nightstand stash. If you are looking for an anytime sativa that won’t make your mind race aimlessly, look no further. The same reversal that was used for Galaxy Brain and Cosmic Apprentice was also used for this Limited Edition.

Secret Owl Society:

Electric Qoolaid 1:32:18

Blue Microverse F4 x Cosmic Queen F4 *Quick Finish*
50/50 Sativa/Indica
65-75 days from sprout
1.5-3 ounce average
3 Feminized Seeds
Expect medium to large plants with creamy blue raspberry lemonade golf ball buds running along the side branches, leading up to chunky top colas all wrapped in gooey, long-stemmed trichomes. Another beautiful true F1 hybrid with a 50/50 blend for a balanced, comforting mind and body experience. Great for relaxing after work when you’re ready to start winding down. For the reversal I used a stocky, faster finishing Cosmic Queen as the pollen donor which will help add vigor and potency while keeping the stretch down.
**Be sure to keep airflow and humidity in check during the final few weeks, as the flower density can lead to bud rot in the wrong conditions. **

Judy Gemstone 1:32:44

Strawberry Nuggets F4 x Cosmic Queen F4 *Quick Finish*
40/60 Sativa/Indica
65-75 days from sprout
1.5-3 ounce average
3 Feminized Seeds
Expect medium-sized bushes with very sturdy branches that reach up and fill the canopy alongside the main cola. Rock hard nugs of pinks, purples, emerald, and blue hues will create all the bag appeal you could ask for, with a sweet cheesy strawberry funk that will have you smelling the bag again and again. Another true F1 and the heaviest indica hybrid of the lot, ranging from therapeutic to narcotic depending on your intake. Perfect for a dessert smoke or nightcap to relax your body before sailing off into the dream world. For the reversal I used a stocky, faster finishing Cosmic Queen as the pollen donor which will help add vigor and potency while keeping the stretch down.
***Be sure to keep an eye on these during early as the Strawberry Nuggets line can throw a ball or two during sexing, right where the side branches meet the main stem. It is rare, but can be brought about by stress or too strong an application of nutes during the sexing stage and seems to be most common when using humic acid. If you do see a ball pop up it can be removed and the plant will continue on fully female to finish her life. Also, keep airflow and humidity in check during the final few weeks, as the flower density can lead to bud rot in the wrong conditions. **\*

Karmic Connection 1:33:03

(Chem City Blues x Chemdogging) X Cosmic Queen F4 *Super Sativa*
60/40 Sativa/Indica
75-85 days from sprout
2-4 ounce average
3 Feminized Seeds
Expect large, easy growing plants with satellite branches that reach up to the shoulders of the canopy, but be sure to stake her before she goes too far into flower or she will buckle under the weight of her blooms. The piercing old school perfumes she puts off range from skunky blueberries to creamy chems, and her soda can cola structure is sure to impress! This F1 polyhybrid is recommended for heavier smokers and those looking for help with pain management, and can be a bit too much too fast for the uninitiated. Carbon filters are always a must indoors, and best to make sure they’re in proper working order before running these. The Cosmic Queen reversal used for this cross was what I consider the super sativa expression of CQ. Tall, stretchy, thinner leaves, incredibly sweet resin, bag appeal, pest, and pm resistant with an elongated bud structure that is excellent for outdoors and in. Don’t miss out!

Mango Sunrise 1:34:28

Mango Smile x Cosmic Queen F4 *Super Sativa*
70/30 Sativa/Indica
75-85 days from sprout
2-4 ounce average
3 Feminized Seeds
Expect large, easy growing plants with sturdy branching and individual bud sites running their length, met with a small cola cluster at their end. This true F1 hybrid has beautiful tropical citrus flavors that will send you off on an island vacation, while the effects will leave you physically and mentally heightened and ready for anything the day throws your way! Extremely pleasant all day/everyday smoke, sure to be a crowd-pleaser. The Cosmic Queen reversal used for this cross was what I consider the super sativa expression of CQ. Tall, stretchy, thinner leaves, incredibly sweet resin, bag appeal, pest, and pm resistant with an elongated bud structure that is excellent for outdoors and in. Don’t miss out!

Milk and Qookies 1:35:15

Forum Stomper x Cosmic Queen F4 *Quick Finish*
60/40 Sativa/Indica
65-75 days from sprout
1.5-3 ounce average
3 Feminized Seeds
Expect medium-sized bushes with stout branches that reach up and form a canopy surrounding the main cola. Incredibly resinous chunky white nugs and dark forest green foliage fade to the deepest purples and blacks under cooler temperatures. She will have true F1 hybrid vigor and produce a delicious mix of forum cookies and cosmic cream flavors along with an abundance of “fall off the stalk” gland heads that will put everything else around your trimbin to shame. Effects are stoney, both physically and mentally, without the couchlock. She could easily fill the role of all day/everyday smoke if you have a decent tolerance already. For the reversal I used a stocky, faster finishing Cosmic Queen as the pollen donor which will help add vigor and potency while keeping the stretch down.

Space Station Orange v.2 1:36:50

Super Orange Haze F4 X Cosmic Queen F4 *Super Sativa*
70/30 Sativa/Indica
70-80 days from sprout
1.5-3 ounce average
3 Feminized Seeds
Expect medium-sized, easy growing plants with shorter side branches that reach about half the height of the main cola. Floral and sour citrus flavors with an uplifting effect that is great for early morning and afternoon indulgences. Bag appeal is also of no concern, as this true F1 hybrid has it in spades! The Cosmic Queen reversal used for this cross was what I consider the super sativa expression of CQ. Tall, stretchy, thinner leaves, incredibly sweet resin, bag appeal, pest, and pm resistant with an elongated bud structure that is excellent for outdoors and in. Don’t miss out!

Star Krunch 1:37:18

Toof Decay x Cosmic Queen F4 *Quick Finish*
50/50 Sativa/Indica
65-75 days from sprout
1.5-3 ounce average
3 Feminized Seeds
Expect medium-sized bushes with stout branches that almost reach the height of the main cola. Extremely dense buds covered in sweet bakery and candy-flavored resin that will leave you wanting more. Cooler temperatures can bring out some beautiful fall colors that only add to her visual appeal. Stoney without the narcotic effect, great for an afternoon delight or as a post-meal treat. For the reversal I used a stocky, faster finishing Cosmic Queen as the pollen donor which will help add vigor and potency to this true F1, while keeping the stretch down.
***Be sure to keep an eye on these during early as the Toof Decay line can throw a ball or two during sexing, right where the side branches meet the main stem. It is rare, but can be brought about by stress or too strong an application of nutes during the sexing stage and seems to be most common when using humic acid. If you do see a ball pop up it can be removed and the plant will continue on fully female to finish her life. Also, keep airflow and humidity in check during the final few weeks, as the flower density can lead to bud rot in the wrong conditions. **\*

Creme De La Cosmos 1:38:23

Creme de la Soul F1 x Cosmic Queen F4 Quick Finish
50/50 Sativa/Indica
65-75 days from sprout
1.5-3 ounce average
3 Feminized Seeds
Expect medium plants with stout satellite branches reaching up to the shoulders of the main colas. Dense nugs covered in oily resin ranging in smells from red berries and sneakers to creamy grapes, this F1 polyhybrid has a lot to offer! Cooler temperatures can bring on fades of reds and purples, making her an absolute beauty in her final days. She has a balanced physical and mental high, leaning towards the stoney end of the spectrum, and will make for a great evening smoke. For the reversal I used a stocky, faster finishing Cosmic Queen as the pollen donor which will help add vigor and potency while keeping the stretch down.
Be sure to keep airflow and humidity in check during the final few weeks, as the flower density can lead to bud rot.

Shekinah 1:40:55

Supernatural OG x Cosmic Queen F4 Super Sativa
70/30 Sativa/Indica
75-85 days from sprout
2-4 ounce average
3 Feminized Seeds
Expect large, easy growing plants with sturdy branching and individual bud sites running their length, met with a medium cola cluster at their ends, with a large main cola. This F1 poly hybrid is chock full of hazey goodness! Flavors range from effervescent lemon-lime, to heavy juniper laced gin and tonic. The juniper flavors are my personal favorite and tend to kick my ass and get me super stoney, while the citrusy ones are more motivational. There’s a variety of outstanding expressions to be found in these, all on the sativa end of the spectrum. The Cosmic Queen reversal used for this cross was what I consider the super sativa expression of CQ. Tall, stretchy, thinner leaves, incredibly sweet resin, bag appeal, pest and pm resistant with an elongated bud structure that is excellent for outdoors and in. Don’t miss out!
Blessed by Hoodoo Moses I

Restock

Cosmic Apprentice (No Video)

Wizard’s Apprentice F4 x Cosmic Queen F4
Sativa
75 days from sprout
"Ready to get heady? Crossing a big-bodied sativa dominant Wizard’s Apprentice to the rush inducing Cosmic Queen resulted in a whole new variety that will keep your head in the clouds! Large plants with denser buds than Cosmic Queen, an overload of frost, and nostril piercing neon sweet and hazey scents finishing right around 75 days. If you’re into uplifting sativa effects with chunkier buds then she is definitely worth checking out."

Cheech Biggums 1:40:42

Wizard’s Apprentice F4 x Tyrone Stomper F6
Indica
70 days from sprout
A long time coming, the Cheech Biggums is sure to impress! Using a heavy Cheech Wizard dominant Wizard’s Apprentice mated to the ever-impressive Tyrone Stomper will produce medium to large, extra vigorous true F1 hybrids with fruity OG gas flavors and an occasional piney/floral expression in a quick 70ish days from sprout.
Picture of Post

February Drop Info

Copied from Daz's IG post.

Thank you all for your patience with me these past few weeks. I've been handling a lot of business behind the scenes in preparation for big things next year. 2020 was the year of staying off the radar with most of my big projects and not drawing any unnecessary attention. 2021 is the year of getting licensed and really showing you what it's all about! Thank you for your trust and faith in me during my overly cautious past few months/years. I won't let you down.🙏🌱🦉🌱🙏New photo to autos scheduled for the first half of 2021:
Pre '98 Bubba Kush x Auto Skywalker F4
Dosidos x Forum Stomper F4
Purple Punch x Forum Stomper F4
Sunset Sherbet x Forum Stomper F4

*Latest Update*The next scheduled drop Daz is aiming for is Valentine's day. This drop should include the new F4 photo to auto cultivars listed above, again as long as nothing delays this.

Originals and Regular seeds Restock

They are a work in progress
, Originals and Regular seeds shouldn't be expected till February earliest, and will MOST LIKELY be mid-2021 If there are no setbacks.

Seedbanks that carry NightOwl, and the Seedbank Drop

Not always up to date, post a comment if something has changed.

SeedBank	Squanch Queen	Foot Cheese	Head Cheese	Payment	International	Carry Mephisto	Freebies
Neptune Seedbank	Yes	Yes	Yes	Credit Card (US Only), Bitcoin, PMC Gold, Cash	Yes	Yes	*Need User Input
Supreme Seedbank	Yes	Yes	Yes	Money Gram/ Venmo/ Cash App/ Zelle, Money Order, Debit/ Credit (US ONLY 3.5% fee), Custom payment, Bitcoin, eGiftCertificate	Yes	Yes	*Need User Input
Treestar Seedbank	Yes	Yes	Yes	Credit Card, Bitcoin, Money Order, Cash, Western Union, Cash App, Zelle	Yes	Yes	Yes In-house freebies
Harvest Mutual	Yes	Yes	Yes	Cash, Money Order, Credit Card, Paypal	Yes	Yes	Yes Masonic Freebies
Insane Seeds	Yes	Yes	Yes	Bitcoin, Cash, Credit Card	Yes	Yes	No SALE ON HEAD CHEESE %25 OFF
DC Seed Exchange	Yes	Yes	Yes	Debit Card, Cash, Money Order, eCheck, Cryptocurrencies	No	Yes	Sometimes / Use "5%DCSEEDS" for 5% off
Oregon Elite Seedbank	Yes	Yes	Yes	Cash, Money Order, Cryptocurrencies	Yes	No	*Need User Input
Hembra Genetics	No	Yes	Yes	Cash, Cash App *need user input	No	No	No / $45/pack
RMH719 SOLD OUT	No	No	No	Cash, Bitcoin *need user input	No	No	Sometimes In-house Freebie
RMHCA SOLD OUT	No	No	No	Cash, Bitcoin, E-transfer	No	No	Sometimes In-house Freebie

​

I stood on a shore, watching wind-churned waves crash at my feet. The sand, sea, and sky stretched to infinity, the only sounds the roaring water and howling gale. Droplets caught in my hair and the taste of salt graced my lips. The heavy bellies of storm-laden clouds hung overhead, the light dull and listless as lichen on a gravestone.
On the horizon, something jutted from the steel-colored sea.
I squinted, attempting to discern its nature to no avail. I’d have to get closer.
My bare feet sank into the damp sand and I braced for the touch of chilled water. It was colder than winter and just as dark, creeping into my clothes and reaching for my bones with every step I took.
I was about waist deep when I felt the first fingers curl around my ankle. I jerked back, trying to shake the rotting knuckle bones, but they cinched tighter, grinding together as they bruised my flesh. More hands shot from the sandy depths, grasping at my clothes, my limbs. Arms stripped of sinew burst from the waves, tangling in my hair and clawing at my throat as they forced me down. I turned to look at the shore just feet away, only for the hands of the dead to pull me under.
Salt water stung my eyes and flooded my nose. In the murky water, algae-patched skulls grinned with empty sockets. They clasped me in a lover’s embrace, pinning my arms and legs as I desperately fought for the surface. Above, the light receded until there was nothing but murk and cold and weight.
This is only a dream, I thought and opened my mouth to breathe. Instead, water rushed in, choking and freezing, my chest spasming as it filled my lungs. I screamed without sound, my vision white in panic.
It’s only a dream, I thought. My arms and legs stopped responding and I drifted down, made heavy by my graveyard anchors. Below was cavernous darkness, intent on swallowing me. It’s only a dream! Wake up! WAKE UP!
I jerked awake, my heart pounding. As I desperately gulped for air, my stomach churned. Leaning over the side of the bed, I vomited, my body spasming long after I was empty. The soaked carpet stank of brine; salt and bile coated my tongue. Exhausted, I collapsed back onto the bed, sweat dampening my hair. I stared at the ceiling as my breathing slowed to a normal pace.
“So he’s gotten tired of waiting,” I said. The empty house didn’t reply, but I knew I’d get an answer soon enough.
*
The next night, I found myself on the same shore, staring at the open ocean. This time, I sat down where I was and waited. Hours seemed to pass. The dampness of the sand seeped into my dress, giving me goosebumps, while the wind tangled my hair into impossible knots. But my patience was rewarded.
Gradually, the waves crashed further and further away, revealing more of the shore. On the horizon, the strange jutting shape grew fuller, the water dwindling like an unwound bobbin until the shape’s full, distorted dimensions were in view.
Satisfied that the path was clear, I rose, dusted off the clinging sand as best I could, and made my way out.
The horizon shimmered, catching on my eyes until I was forced to look down and mark my progress by flotsam and jetsam alone. Rotten boards protruded from the sand like crucifixes. Several fish lay gasping in shallow puddles, their wide eyes desperate. A single jellyfish sprawled, gelatinous and stinking. In the distance, the shape rose, its features sharpening with every step.
It was the hull of a ship, covered in the sea’s refuse. Splintered masts cut into the gray sky like turrets, the water-logged hull swelling like ramparts. At the prow, there rose the remains of a figurehead, the carving eaten away by salt and time. Barnacles clustered in its hair like a crown, and beneath its pitted body gaped a large, black hole to the ship’s interior.
I stepped inside.
Diffused sunlight filtered through holes in the hull, offering dull, gray illumination. At the center of the gutted ship lay a pile of bones, jumbled and broken, reaching a good ten feet into the air. Atop them rose a throne of driftwood, iron, and skulls, and upon it sat a being more skeleton than man.
Its head hung down, fingerbones resting on the skull-crested arms of its throne. At the wet, sucking sound of my footsteps, it looked up. A face half-skull, half distended flesh peered down, its remaining eye clouded as it searched me. Its movements were accompanied by clanging—a chain ran from an iron collar around its neck to the throne base, the links fat as sausages and heavy as sin. The creature’s eye brightened as it recognized me, its jaw creaking open to emit a rusty laugh, revealing a worm-eaten tongue and blackened teeth.
“Katie,” it said, raising a hand in welcome. “At last! I wondered if you’d ever find your way here.”
I stood before it dispassionately, studying its pitiful state. I expected emotion to swamp me, but it never materialized. “Hi, Daddy.”
It laughed again—what would’ve been a booming laugh in a living man, but was now iron nails scraping a wooden plank.
“That’s rich,” it said. “Tell me, Katie, do you know where we are?”
“Of course,” I said. “I’m the one who put you here, after all.”
“That you did. And look how proud you are of it.” The creature leaned from its throne until the chain pulled taut, the metal screeching in protest. “You made a deal, daughter of mine—and he held up his end. Now, it’s time for you to make good on yours.”
It began to laugh, the sound rebounding off the cavernous hull, undulating as though under water. More voices joined—the voices of the Drowned, the Damned—those who came before and were unable to escape their own arrangements.
I had what I came for.
When I forced myself awake, light streamed through my window. I rose unsteadily, then knelt by my bed and pulled out the suitcase I kept beneath, packed and ready for such a day.
Truthfully, I hadn’t expected any warning—I’d assumed that one day, he’d simply appear and collect his payment before I had a chance to protest. But I supposed old gods are bound to some degree of decorum.
Or perhaps he couldn’t reach me any other way. After all, I haven’t been idle these past ten years. I’ve studied the darkest magics, researched the most ancient tomes. With ingenuity born of pure desperation, I’ve managed to erect a few defenses. Nothing that would stop him forever, of course—just enough to buy me time. So that when we meet, it will be on my terms.
*
It was my thirteenth birthday and my father had promised to take me fishing. We got to the lake in the early morning, mist still rising off the surrounding trees. My father had a tough time taking the boat down from the car roof. By the time he’d gotten it loose, he was in a foul mood.
“Katie, hurry your ass up! I want to get out on the damn lake before it gets hot!”
He hauled the canoe over his shoulder, complaining the whole way down the path. I stumbled behind, carrying our gear. My knee wasn’t quite working right, locking up unexpectedly and constantly aching. There was a large bruise all down my shin from when my father pushed me down the stairs the night before.
Despite my father’s griping, the lake wasn’t far. Within half an hour, my father was rowing us onto the gently undulating water, cursing with every stroke. When he deemed us at a good spot, we baited our hooks, cast our lines, and waited.
We hadn’t been there five minutes before my father cracked open the cooler and downed a beer. When he was finished, he crumpled the can in his fist and chucked it into the lake, then opened another.
I wasn’t actually a fan of fishing—this entire endeavor was my father’s idea—but I did like sitting on the lake. As the sun rose, it caught the waves, turning the lake into a faceted jewel. The air was cool and crisp, and all around us birds called, competing with the low whistle of wind and the wet thunk of water against our boat. I was happy enough to watch the water glitter. As I did so, something moved beneath the surface, so quick I only caught a glimpse. Confused and intrigued, I leaned forward, staring into the depths.
“Katie! Your pole!”
With a start, I realized my reel was spinning. The rod jerked in my hands.
“You’ve got a bite!” my dad shouted. “Don’t just sit there, retard, reel it in!”
I did my best to obey, fighting with the fish as my father yelled and shook his half-empty can of beer. After a few minutes the line went slack; when I finally finished reeling in, the hook and bait were both gone.
“Oh, just great!” said my father, ripping the pole from my hands. “You snapped the line, you stupid bitch!”
I looked down at my shoes, afraid to move. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”
“Like fuck you’re sorry—these things don’t grow on trees, you know!”
I held still as my father, muttering under his breath, reached into the tacklebox for a new lure and hook.
Just then, something bumped the bottom of the boat hard enough to send us rocking. Startled, my father looked up, his beer-fogged eyes squinting.
“What was that?”
I said nothing and sat still.
The boat rocked again, sending my father stumbling. “There it is again! Sonofabitch, what is it?”
He placed his free hand on the side of the boat and leaned over the side, searching the water.
I said nothing and sat very, very still.
The boat jostled, bucking like a ship in the middle of a hurricane. I gripped onto the sides and braced my feet, steeling myself to remain aboard. My father, caught in his lean, tumbled over.
The rocking stopped abruptly, leaving me panting and shaking. The lake was calm, the breeze refreshing, the bird calls as friendly as ever.
Very carefully, I pried my clenched fingers from the sides of the craft, leaving red grooves where the plastic had bitten into my skin. Inch by inch, I made my way to the side and peeked over.
The ripples were dissipating. I tried to look deeper, but the sun’s glare made it impossible.
Just as I was about to give up, the water suddenly exploded. My father came up, gasping and thrashing. Startled, I fell back, knocking my elbow. My father managed to get ahold of the side, tipping us dangerous, but didn’t pull himself up. Instead, he called for me.
“Katie! There’s something—something down there!” At first I didn’t know what was wrong with his voice. Then I realized he was crying—something I’d never seen him do. “It—It got me—it got me, Katie—my leg’s hurt pretty bad. I need you to pull me in! Come on, Katie—be a good girl and pull Daddy in!”
Rubbing my elbow, I crouched and looked at him. It was strange to look down; I was always the one below, the one cowering and begging. I explored the unfamiliar feeling like a new flavor—I found I rather liked it.
My father, never one to miss a chance to anger, grew red at my inaction. “Goddamn it, Katie! I’m bleeding! I need help—come on, help me, you stupid bitch!” I watched him, terrified and floundering, and wondered which would be a worse death: to slowly drip your life away or to breathe it gone in one gulp?
“Yes, Daddy.”
I edged to the tacklebox and rifled through until I found my father’s pocket knife. My father didn’t take care of most things, but he always prided himself on keeping a sharp blade.
Knife in hand, I turned to my father.
“Katie—Katie, what are you doing?”
Very carefully, I lined up the blade with his fingers, then looked into his eyes.
“Katie—Katie, what the fuck? What the fuck are you doing—”
I pressed the blade into his flesh as hard as I could, my hand shaking with the effort. Blood welled from the cut, dripping like molasses over his knuckles and the back of his hand. He screamed.
“Katie, what the fuck, you bitch! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you for this, you little c—”
He lifted his good hand from the boat and made to bat me away, but something moved below the surface. He gave a little squeal and sank, his head barely above water. He made to grab for the side again, but couldn’t reach. I said nothing and sat still, watching.
“Katie, it’s got me . . .” he burbled, eyes so wide I could see white all the way around his irises. “It’s got me, Katie . . . Help me . . .”
I lifted my knife, gleaming and slick in the morning sun, and got to work on his fingers once again.
My father cried softly as I hacked away, crunching through ligaments and tendons, until he could hold no more and his limp, mangled hand slipped. In a flash of sun glare, he was under the lake, the only remnants a few red smears.
Then all was calm.
I dropped the pocketknife in the lake, then sat back, my father’s blood straining my hands and shirt. The lake was so beautiful in the morning and I drank it in, fixing the scene in my memory. That was how other fishermen found me a few hours later: drifting alone, sitting still, and saying nothing.
*
I wonder if he’d been waiting for someone like me, or it was just a whim of his, something to pass the long eons he’d spent in the deep. That’s the thing most people don’t know about gods—they get bored. And when they get bored, they get cruel.
When I saw him beneath the waves that day, he had the form of a dark horse, mane floating among the scattered sunrays, teeth white as bone. He touched my mind and, without words, proposed a deal:
He would rid me of my tormentor for good and, in return, I would be in his debt. One day, he would come to collect.
Of course, I instantly agreed. How could I not? I was a child, alone and afraid. I would’ve said yes to anything if it meant being free.
*
I set my duffel bag in the trunk and close the lid. No one else in the neighborhood is stirring yet, the cookie cutter houses dark-eyed and still. It’s so early the sky is barely pink, but I can already feel the summer heat. I moved to the Southwest years ago, hoping the desolate climate would offer me some protection. As far as I know, it has—but now that he’s actively seeking me, it won’t be enough. Even a puddle may act as a conduit for his power.
It’s time for contingencies.
Soon, I will climb into the driver’s seat of my Wrangler, start the engine and back out of my driveway for the last time. Over the years, I’ve learned a thing or two. For example, if you can’t avoid a confrontation, you want to have it on your terms. And I’ve had ten years to decide exactly what that means.
Whatever happens, it’ll be in the dry dust of a desert, where the very air shimmers with heat. This time, I’ll have more than a pocket knife. This time, I’m more than a frightened little girl.
I am through sitting still. I am through with saying nothing.
This time, I will take my freedom with my own two, bloody hands.

December’s a pretty festive time in Atlantic Dale. Like the rest of the country, we love this time of year: an excuse to deck out the house in pretty lights and consume copious amounts of spiked eggnog and blow our paychecks on fun little presents no one will ever use. You know, the classics. But our town has traditions of a different kind too.
It’s been one year since the infamous “Drunken Santa” incident, when a department store Santa down at the strip mall puked all over a kid’s lap and then fainted in his chair. Instead of getting the kid trauma therapy or implementing stricter protocols at the mall, our town did what it does and threw a slew of “holiday spirits” parties, which involved hanging around in Santa hats and getting totally shitfaced. Sometimes, on Saturday nights, you can hear the distant sounds of drunken singing – plus loud bangs as the partygoers shoot up Christmas ornaments with their handguns. It’s always a fun time.
So for us, December is a time to celebrate. All the bullshit from the rest of the year can’t hold a candle to the spirit of the season.
* * * * *
It’s been a few months now since I lost my husband, Mike. By which I mean he won the goddamn lottery and skipped town to go party with bikini babes in the Bahamas. I guess “ex-husband” is more accurate since I was in the process of divorcing his ass before he left. All the girls at the salon told me to hang in there since he was a rich man now, but come on. No amount of money was worth keeping that lazy son of a bitch around.
I guess I should be mad that he decided to dump his dogs on me while he’s away, but I really can’t, because (if I’m being honest) I’ve always loved those two more than him. Matheson and Growly are like the sons I never had, except better because they’re not hormonal teenagers. Matheson is a sleepy basset hound who likes to curl up by the window and sunbathe. Growly is the cutest little corgi with the ditsiest attention span I’ve ever seen. They’re always happy to see me when I get home, which is nice after a day of listening to Karens bitch about their neighbors and husbands and everything under the sun while I bleach their hair. I wonder if there’s any way to claim the dogs in the divorce.
It isn’t easy living on my own, especially with all the gossipy rednecks whispering about my marital woes when they think I’m not listening. God forbid a woman’s allowed to be single these days. Sometimes I spend the morning staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror and tell myself, you’re better than them, Ruby. And it’s true. I’ve got a rocking mom bod and I went to community college. I bet most of the hicks around here think Steinbeck is a talk show host or something.
Anyway, I’m way too cool for them, and especially for a loser like Mike. The only local who doesn’t make me want to tear my hair out is the town sheriff, Libby Lombardi. That’s mostly because she’s a lesbian and she’s used to taking shit from stupid people. I respect that. I met a lot of lesbians at community college and honestly, they know how to have a good time. That’s why I was stoked when Libby invited me to her “holiday spirits” party down at the Swinging Boulder.
It was a themed dress-up event, but the only Christmas outfit I had was an old t-shirt of Mike’s with a picture of a smirking Grinch and the quaint caption MY HEART’S NOT THE ONLY THING GROWING THREE SIZES. Crass as expected, but I figured Libby and the girls would get a laugh out of it. I threw it on and grabbed some cheapo Christmas beads from the closet to complete the picture.
The dogs were invited too, but Growly had gotten into my lunch bag and gobbled up the rest of my grapes, so the poor pup had to spend the night at the vet until he stopped puking. I’d be more worried if he hadn’t pulled a stunt like this three times already. As for Matheson, I figured I’d run with the Grinch theme and dress him up like the dog Max from the movie. It was obvious from the morose look in his eyes that he didn’t care for the plastic antlers or the big red clown nose, but he sucked it up anyway. Matheson was good like that.
The Swinging Boulder was a little ways out of town, situated right at the edge of the touristy part of the Everglades. The lesbian bar shared a parking lot with a rinky-dink motel called (you can’t make this shit up) the Beaver Street Inn. Both buildings were draped in strings of red and green lights, and so were the pair of palm trees arching over the entrance to the bar. I pulled into the lot and dragged a reluctant Matheson out of the car. Christmas music floated out of the open doorway: Eartha Kitt trying to seduce her “Santa Baby.”
I led Matheson inside and was greeted with a cheer by Sheriff Lombardi, who was clearly a few drinks in already. She tugged on a despondent Matheson’s cheeks and told him what a cute boy he was, yes he was. Libby’s wife, Jamie Guterman, came over to drag the sheriff away with an apologetic smile. The couple wore matching red tops with bits of white fluff lining the sleeves and HOW’S THIS FOR GAY APPAREL? written in sparkly cursive on the front.
I took the cup of spiked eggnog Jamie slipped to me and wandered around the bar. The place was cute, if a bit cramped. Strings of garland and mistletoe stretched from wall to wall, paper snowflakes dangled from the ceiling, mounds of fake snow surrounded the table full of appetizers. All the other tables had been pushed aside to create a makeshift dance floor. Women of all ages and body types swayed and chatted and sipped from their frosty glasses. Everyone wore little felt antlers or Santa hats or silly Christmas shirts. The bartender was a sturdy woman in a blond ponytail and a drooping Santa hat of her own, and she didn’t smile once as she poured out each drink.
I didn’t really know anyone except Libby, and she was currently being propped up by Jamie in the corner, sloshing beer onto her top. Matheson trudged along by my side as I drifted around the room, wondering who to talk to. I was usually good in crowds, but everyone here seemed like best friends already, and butting into their conversations felt like a surefire way to make things awkward. Maybe I needed a little more booze in me before getting sociable.
I downed my eggnog in one gulp, and that was when I saw the guy standing by the appetizers. I don’t know how the hell I’d missed him before. He must have been six and a half feet tall, skinny as a palm tree, with a red fedora propped on his head and a peppermint stick jutting from his mouth like a cigar. He wore the ugliest Christmas sweater I’d ever seen. It was covered in baubles and lights and ridiculous white tufts and said HAPY HOLIDAYS (yes, without the “P”) in blocky green letters. The fabric was more maroon than red and looked way too puffy and hot for the Florida climate. He tugged on the collar, sweat beading on his forehead, as he looked nervously around the room.
I wasn’t so desperate that I would flirt with the only man in a room full of lesbians, but the poor guy looked as out of place as I felt, and I figured it would be easier to talk to him than anyone else. I lugged Matheson over and planted myself by the stranger’s side. He didn’t seem to notice me at all, so I cleared my throat.
“Hey,” I said, straining to be heard over the music. “I’m Ruby.”
The guy jumped like a bomb had gone off next to him. His absurd fedora nearly flew off his head. He looked down at me, straightening his hat, and his tension seemed to ease somewhat – although his shoulders did grow stiff when he noticed Matheson lounging by my feet.
“Oh, um, hi,” he said. His voice was raspy, like a chainsmoker’s, but it cracked on the last syllable. “I’m, uh, Detective Smith.” He stared at Matheson like the dog might sprout actual antlers and fly away like one of Santa’s reindeer.
I knelt down and removed his leash. “Go ahead and take a nap or something, buddy,” I said. Matheson gave me that puppy-dog look of his, then wandered off into the corner and curled up in a ball underneath the appetizer table. Smith looked visibly relieved.
“Thank you,” he said. “I’m just. Well. I’m not the best with dogs.”
I could believe it. The guy looked like he might have a nervous breakdown if a car backfired down the block.
“What brings you here?” I asked him.
He seemed distracted, his eyes surveying the room from beneath the brim of his festive fedora. “Krampus,” he said. He nibbled at the end of his peppermint stick.
“Don’t think I know her,” I replied.
Smith turned to me, eyes wide. “Oh no, Krampus didn’t invite me!” he said, as if that was the part that had tripped me up. He lowered his face and leaned down to whisper secretively in my ear. “I’m here hunting him. Krampus is a Christmas demon, like the anti-Claus. I received a tipoff that he was coming to this town to claim the souls of naughty children.”
“Really, now,” I said. I should have left him to be crazy by himself, but he was honestly the most entertaining part of this party, so why not humor the guy? “What’s this Krampus look like?”
“He’s big and hairy and horned, like a goat,” Smith replied. He made little horn shapes on the top of his fedora. “Sometimes he wears a suit like Santa Claus to trick the kids into trusting him. He’s good at that, you know, putting on disguises. He tricks you into thinking he’s a holiday reveler until he stuffs you in his sack for his seasonal sacrifice.”
I tried to look shocked. “Oh no!” I said. “Well, good thing there’s no kids at this party. Just a bunch of drunken lesbians.”
Smith’s brow furrowed in concern. “Yeah,” he said. “That’s what I don’t get. My intel was very specific. They told me for sure that Krampus would be here tonight.”
I glanced around the room. “Maybe you should mingle with the guests, get them talking,” I said. “One of them could be Krampus in disguise.”
“Oh, I can’t,” he said hastily. “I have to guard the nectar.”
“Excuse me?”
He pointed at a punch bowl full of clear, bubbly liquid that looked like knockoff brand Sprite. I leaned down and gave the stuff a whiff. It smelled like someone had taken a bunch of wintergreen candies and melted them down into a sweet, sugary, carbonated mess.
“This is soda,” I observed.
Smith went on the defensive. “Well,” he said, “yes, technically, it is soda. I couldn’t make an infusion of birch nectar myself so I had to import some birch beer from this home brewery in Vermont. Krampus likes the taste of birch, you know,” he explained. “He’s drawn to it. I figured, if any of the guests go for the stuff, I’ll know they’re Krampus in disguise.”
“Seems foolproof,” I said, trying to rub the cloying scent out of my nose. “Can’t imagine any human being drinking that shit.”
“Exactly!” Smith exclaimed, missing my sarcasm. He settled back, satisfied, a little smile on his face. I stared at him and tried to imagine what was going on in that wild brain of his.
“I like your shirt,” I said, if only to say something at all. Smith looked down and tugged on the bottom of his sweater, like he’d forgotten what he was wearing.
“Oh,” he said. “Thanks. Yours is nice too.” He squinted intently at my shirt. If he’d been any other guy, I would have assumed he was checking out my rack, but somehow I didn’t see Smith as that kind of type.
“I don’t get it though,” he said. “What does that mean?”
I glanced down at the smirking Grinch and that stupid line about “growing three sizes.”
“Please tell me you’re joking,” I replied.
“No, I really don’t get it,” he said.
While I tried to figure out how to explain a dick joke to a grown man, the music overhead switched from Burl Ives to the tinkling opening chimes of “All I Want for Christmas is You.” Smith immediately stiffened. His eyes grew wide and scared.
“Oh no,” he whispered. “It’s her.”
“Who, Mariah?” I asked.
“I have to stop this song,” he said in a strangled voice. “Everyone here is in terrible danger!”
“I mean, yeah, it’s overplayed as hell,” I replied. “But I don’t see how a Mariah Carey song is anything to –”
“She’s a siren!” Smith yelped. “Her voice will drive you mad and reduce your brain to mush!” He nearly swallowed his peppermint stick as he hurled himself away from the table, pushing his way through the crowd. He looked back at me only once, clutching his fedora to his head, and shouted, “Watch the nectar!” Then he slipped down a side hallway and was gone.
“Sure thing, buddy,” I muttered.
I thought about wandering away to mingle with some of the other guests, but Matheson was snoring away under the table and I figured I shouldn’t leave him alone. I tipped my glass and tried to slurp up the last drops of eggnog. When I lowered it, there was yet another stranger standing in front of me. Emphasis on “strange.” They were six feet tall, broad-shouldered, and wearing what looked like a police officer costume that was just a bit too small for them. There was a floppy brown wig on their head and dots of stubble on their cheeks that were clearly drawn on with magic marker.
“Uh, hi,” I said.
“Good evening, citizen,” they said in a gruff, obviously fake Southern accent. “I was wondering if you happened to see a suspicious character pass through these parts. He’s very skinny, usually smoking, jumpy, about yea high.” They held their hand six inches above their head. “We worked together on a case awhile back. I was hoping to chat with him.”
I gave them a cursory once-over. “And who’s asking?”
“Sorry,” they said. They extended a very smooth, very bulky hand. “I’m constable Mike Hannity. Nice to meetcha.”
I just about dropped my empty glass on the floor. It takes a lot to disarm me, but the stranger had done the equivalent of detonating a smoke bomb in my face. Who the hell was this clown? They might have been a man, they might have been a woman, they might have been neither, but one thing they weren’t was my shitty ex-husband.
“Huh,” I said. “That’s funny. I’m Ruby Herringbone, but I used to be a Hannity. At least until my ex struck it rich and ditched me to go party in the tropics.”
The stranger’s eyes widened. “Ah,” they said. Our conversation drifted into silence. I stared them down, while they plucked at the sleeve of their ridiculously tight cop outfit. Finally they brushed past me and poured themself a cup of Smith’s imported birch beer. They took a deep sip, then smacked their lips.
“Mmm,” they said. “Good stuff.”
I was spared from finding a new talking point by a sudden blip of static from overhead; Smith, it seemed, had succeeded in silencing the deadly “siren song.” The stranger calling themself Mike placed down their cup and glanced up at the speakers.
“Sorry to bother you,” they said. Then they tucked in their shoulders and bumped their way through the crowd, disappearing down the same side hallway Smith had taken earlier.
This was officially the weirdest party I’d ever been to, and I wasn’t even drunk yet. I debated leaving Matheson alone for a sec to grab some vodka from the bar. But when I looked over at the unsmiling bartender, she was gone, her counter totally bare. Bathroom break, I figured. I sighed and poured a little of Smith’s birch beer into my eggnog glass. The stuff really did taste like liquid wintergreen. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but damn, did I wish it had a kick to it.
That was when the night took yet another turn. All the power in the building died suddenly, plunging us into darkness and causing half the guests to cry out in alarm. (Someone cried out, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” It might have been me.) There was only a sliver of moonlight to see by. I felt my way toward the corner where Matheson was sleeping, only to jostle the end of the table and drop my glass for real this time. It hit the ground with a thud, making someone scream a little, and rolled off into the darkness.
There was another sound below the murmurs of the partygoers: a low, throaty growling, like a wild animal. It took me a second to realize the growl was coming from Matheson. I’d never heard the little guy get so guttural before. I finally managed to kneel down and scoop him up in my arms, but he struggled, trying to break away.
“What’s gotten into you, boy?” I asked.
Then he started to bark: harsh, threatening. I looked up to see what had freaked him out, only to see a bulky silhouette standing in the door to the side hall. Their face was hidden in the shadows, but it looked like they were wearing a ratty Santa suit and carrying a burlap sack over their shoulder. They shifted slightly, letting the moonlight fall over their forehead, and I saw what looked like a pair of curved horns sprouting from a hairy temple.
I froze.
Matheson suddenly squirmed out of my grip and charged at the figure in the doorway, barking like a dog twice his size. I scrambled to my feet and tried to hurry after him. But he was booking it, his little legs scampering across the wooden floor. The shadowy figure vanished from the door frame, and Matheson ran after him, his paws retreating into the distance with a clickety-clack sound.
“Shit,” I breathed. I got to my feet and hurried after him, only to collide with a lanky figure who’d just emerged from the side hallway. Both of us let out an almost comical oof of breath and fell back on our asses. The figure’s hat slipped off his head and rolled into the darkness, and I realized I’d run straight into Detective Smith.
“Ow,” he mumbled. “I swallowed my mint stick.”
I fumbled for the edge of the doorway and pulled myself up. Matheson’s scampering paws had gone silent, and I didn’t like to think about how lost he might get in the halls of this place – and who he might have gotten lost with. I tried to inch past the Detective, only to find myself once again blocked by his impossibly lanky frame. He had swayed into my path without seeming to realize it.
“Will you move?” I snapped. “My dog just ran off with some fucker in a Santa suit and I’d like to get him back.”
Smith stopped swaying. “Krampus?” he whispered. “You saw him?”
“I saw somebody,” I said, but the memory of those horns in the moonlight made me pause. I didn’t believe Smith’s crackpot story about the anti-Claus for a second. But it sure was strange how a stranger matching that description had showed up at the party, just like Smith had been expecting…
“Hang on,” I said. “You’re a detective, right?”
Smith tugged nervously at the collar of his sweater. I couldn’t see his face in the dark, but I had a feeling he was sweating. “Um, yeah,” he replied.
“So you’ve got a gun, then.”
“I, uh. Well. Yes,” he said. “I’m supposed to use it to take down Krampus.”
“Great,” I said. “You’re coming with me and bringing your gun, and you’re going to get my dog back.”
“Wait,” he stammered. “Shouldn’t we get the sheriff…?”
“Libby’s drunk off her ass and I’m not looking for her in the dark anyway,” I said. I grabbed his arm and dragged him, protesting weakly, into the deeper darkness of the side hallway. “Man up and get your shit together. We have a dog to rescue.”
Smith reluctantly stopped struggling, so I let go of his arm and yanked my phone out of my pocket. The stupid battery was in the red zone but it would at least give me a flashlight for another few minutes. I swung the light around the side hallway. It looked like we had ducked into the “Employees Only” part of the building, because the cheap holiday décor had been replaced by gray walls with faded OSHA posters. I made my hasty way around the corner, while the reluctant Smith trailed behind me.
“Stay close and keep your gun out,” I ordered. “This guy could be hiding anywhere.”
The detective made a grumbling sound, but he withdrew his gun from where it had been tucked into the seat of his pants. Mike used to wear his pistol like that, and I always told him he would shoot his asshole off if he wasn’t careful. The weirdo pretending to be my ex swam back into my mind. I wondered if he’d been telling the truth, at least somewhat. Did Mike and this detective know each other somehow? If so, I had a hard time believing that Mister Tall and Awkward here showing up at this party was a coincidence.
Any thoughts about grilling him for answers faded when I turned the second corner. The hall ended in a still-glowing EXIT sign and a wide-open door, which led straight out into the parking lot. I could make out a delivery truck and the string of Christmas lights above the motel entrance, but no sign of Matheson or the guy in the Krampus suit.
Santa suit, I corrected myself. Don’t let this kook get to you.
“Where did they go?” Smith asked quietly.
“Look,” I said, pointing. The Beaver Street Inn had strewn a bunch of fluffy fake snow around the lobby doors, and two lines of footprints let straight up to the entrance. One set was long and wide and looked like it belonged to a pair of boots. The other was an unmistakable set of dog prints.
I strode out the open door and headed for the motel lobby, ignoring Smith’s nervous protests from behind me. Compared to the darkness we’d just come from, the inn’s festive lights were practically blinding. It looked like whoever had cut the power had only done so in the Swinging Boulder. Was someone trying to create chaos, to draw us out? Maybe, but I was surprised that I didn’t really give a fuck. All I cared about right now was making sure my sweet little puppy was safe.
The automatic doors slid open as I approached, letting out a blast of AC. Inside was the shittiest little motel lobby I’d ever seen: a boxy room with tacky brown and green wallpaper, a musty carpet, a half empty brochure rack lined with touristy pamphlets, a vacant reception desk covered in what looked like dried puke, and a taxidermy beaver mounted above it all. There was single door marked FACILITIES in the far right corner.
It took me a second to notice the small, slumped shape in a pair of plastic antlers lying beside the door.
Icy panic shot through me. I lunged forward and threw myself down to Matheson’s side, my hands starting to tremble. The little bundle of fur wasn’t moving. I thought of all the times I’d seen him sunbathing by the window, all the times he’d come trudging into the kitchen to beg for dinner scraps. For a second my eyes grew hot and dry, and I forgot how to breathe. Then I noticed: his chest was rising and falling, so slow I hadn’t noticed the movement before. He wasn’t dead. The lazy little mongrel was taking a nap.
“Unbelievable,” I laughed, my voice cracking. “You’re just like your dad, you know that?”
I was in the process of reaching down to pet him when the air suddenly erupted in gunfire, scaring the shit out of me and startling poor Matheson awake. I grabbed him and threw us both to the ground. When I dared to look up, I saw Smith standing by the lobby doors, gun in hand. Bullets erupted the barrel in a series of erratic flashes and bangs, like he’d lost control of his trigger finger. His eyes were wide and scared and it looked like he was about to lose control of his bladder, too.
I barely noticed the hulking figure disappearing from the doorway leading back to the facilities; I was stunned into silence by the pounding of bullets, which left a series of stippled holes across the wallpaper and knocked the stuffed beaver clean off its perch. Smith eventually seemed to run out of ammo, because he lowered the gun and charged toward the swinging door beside us. Unfortunately the door swung back outward just as Smith reached it, beaning him in the head and sending him sprawling back on the carpet. I waited for him to get up, but he didn’t move. The door had knocked him clean out.
“What the fuck,” I uttered.
I left Matheson for a moment to examine the unconscious detective. His eyes were closed and fluttering slightly behind his eyelids. There was a red bumpy patch on his forehead where the door had struck him. I slapped him in the face a few times, and he stirred a little, but otherwise didn’t wake up. His gun had fallen from his hand and into the gnarly fibers of the carpet. I lifted it and checked for ammo, but it was clean out. Smith had blown every single bullet without hitting his target even once.
Typical, I thought.
I tossed the empty pistol aside and went back to check on Matheson. The little guy had pissed all over the floor, probably out of nerves, and he whimpered a little as I bent down to stroke his back. The red nose had fallen off somewhere in all the confusion. I gave him a kiss on his snout and removed the plastic antlers.
“Stay here, boy,” I said calmly. “Momma will be right back.”
I stood up and approached the bullet-riddled door in the corner. It had swung closed again, so I pushed it open slowly, peering around the door frame with one eye. The hall beyond was empty. I could hear the rattle of a cooling unit coming from the far end, but otherwise there was nothing here except a door leading to the employee restrooms and a long case on the wall with a pane of emergency glass.
I pushed the door open all the way and approached the case. Then I smashed it open with my elbow and delicately extracted the fire-axe from inside. I’d never seen one of these things outside of old movies, which I guess said something about how fucking ancient this motel actually was. The axe felt familiar as I hefted it from hand to hand. It felt right. Krampus or no Krampus, somebody was terrorizing this party and ruining my evening, and I intended to give them a piece of my mind.
The bathroom was a dead end: a single room with a nasty yellowing toilet, a graffitied mirror, and a sink that was practically hanging off the wall. That meant the guy in the Santa suit must have gone further in. I gripped the axe and inched my way along the hall, the rattling of the AC unit putting my whole body on edge. This hallway was at least well lit, but the light fixtures were lined with fly corpses, and they kept doing that horror-movie flicker thing – which didn’t exactly ease my nerves.
The rattle was coming from behind a second nondescript door at the end of the hall. I pushed it open, finding myself in a wide, dark room filled with looming shelves. I felt for a light switch on the inside wall but couldn’t find one. The idea of hunting down this figure in the dark wasn’t appealing, but I wasn’t sure I had much choice. My phone battery was totally dead, and besides, the light would have made me an easy target if this creep was hiding in the shadows.
I stepped inside and let the door close behind me. The AC continued to rattle away, disguising the sound of my footsteps. I approached one of the shelves and peered around the side, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness. I could see bundles of towels and boxes of what must have been toiletry supplies, but no distinct shadows, no sign that anyone else was hiding in this place. Sweat trickled down my neck and into the collar of my shirt. I tightened my grip on the axe and made my cautious way down the next aisle.
The cooling unit grew louder, its rattling more like a washing machine filled with pebbles, and I wondered if the damn thing was about to give out. I tiptoed down to the end of the shelf and braved another peek. Still nothing. There was only one more shelf to check behind, one more place this psycho could be hiding, and I felt my pulse pick up as I inched toward it.
Then two things happened at once: the AC abruptly died, its gravelly spin cycle sound cutting out with one last rumble, and a large, looming shadow enveloped the wall in front of me. I spun around, brandishing the axe in clammy hands. The hulking figure had snuck up without me noticing, and now they stood between me and the only way out, their broad shoulders almost stretching from one shelf to the other. My eyes had adjusted enough to make out the ratty red of their Santa suit and the large, bulky sack that dangled from their gloved hand. Their head was hairy and misshapen, and even though I couldn’t see their eyes, I knew they were staring right at me. Their curved horns jutted from their skull like tiny antler nubs.
It’s Krampus, Smith whispered in my head, and this time I found it harder to ignore him.
The figure reached toward their sack and began to undo the string keeping it closed. Something inside shifted and rattled, and I found myself suddenly, inexplicably terrified by what he might pull out from his bag of horrors. I lifted the axe, but it felt heavier than before. I reared back to launch a mighty swing, but it was too late; the sack was open, and the figure who I was actually starting to think of as Krampus was reaching inside –
But something made them stop and look down at their feet. The air filled with a deep, animal growl, and I realized that Matheson had somehow snuck up on us and latched onto the figure’s boot. They lifted their foot and tried to shake the dog free, but his teeth were in there deep, and the little guy refused to budge. I paused in mid-swing, wondering if I should follow through, when something struck the figure from behind with a massive thunk. A heavy box had collided with the back of their head and fallen to the floor, spilling bars of soap everywhere. The bulky figure swayed on their feet before losing their balance and crashing against the nearest shelf. Matheson finally let go of their boot, then lifted his leg and peed on it.
Detective Smith stood there behind them, his eyes wide with alarm, his arms held up like he’d just chucked a shotput.
“Nice throw there, buddy,” I said. I could barely hear my voice.
Smith didn’t answer me, instead leaning down to check on the figure he’d just beaned in the head. They were stirring feebly, but otherwise seemed totally out of it. He lifted a hand to touch the figure’s head, then curled up his fingers.
“Something’s wrong here,” he said quietly. “This whole situation felt off from the beginning. The party, the bar – it just isn’t Krampus’s usual stalking ground. And he only travels through chimneys, popping out here and there to claim his victims. It’s not like him to get around on foot.”
He stood up and grabbed a chain dangling from the ceiling, one I hadn’t noticed before. He gave it a yank, and the room flooded with more of that flickering yellow light. I blinked a bit to clear the spots from my vision. Then I got a good look at our mystery figure for the first time.
“Oh,” I said. “You’re just some fucker in a costume.”
Now that I could actually, you know, see them, it was clear that their furry horned face was nothing more than a Halloween mask. And a pretty cheap one, too – the horns were hollow and plastic, and there were big round eyeholes in the middle, so huge that the figure’s dazed blue eyes were clearly visible through them. I couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be a goat mask or a Devil mask, but either way, it was ugly as sin.
Smith knelt back down, and this time his hands wrapped around a tuft of fake hair. “Let’s see who you really are,” he muttered.
Then he yanked off the mask. Underneath was a broad, genderless face freckled with magic marker stubble: a face I recognized. They’d been wearing their ridiculous floppy brown wig under the mask, and the whole thing was askew on their head, like a ferret that had curled up there and died.
“Mike?” the detective gasped. “Mike Hannity? It can’t be!”
“It’s not – fucking hell.” I lowered the axe and reached out to snatch the wig off the stranger’s head. “I don’t know who this dumbass is, but they’re not my ex-husband.”
That was when the stranger started to come to. They groaned, then rubbed a gloved hand against their jaw, leaving a smear of magic marker. Smith dropped the mask on the ground and drew back in horror. Matheson waddled over and sniffed the furry thing, then curled up in a ball, clearly bored.
“No,” Smith choked out. “No, not you – anyone but you…”
The stranger noticed him for the first time. They chuckled, a sound that made Smith shiver and clench his fists.
“Long time no see, Stephen,” they said. Their voice was smooth and accent-free.
“You know this clown?” I asked.
“Their name is Sammy,” Smith answered, but it seemed to take immense effort to get the words out. “Sammy Vance. They made my life living hell during our Monster Hunter initiation. Always leaving dead rats in my bunk, sending me death threats, poisoning my meatloaf, you know… prank stuff like that.”
“I’m sorry, they poisoned your meatloaf?” I said. “Also, what the hell is ‘Monster Hunter initiation’?”
“They were always showing me up on field assignments,” Smith went on, totally ignoring me. “They had the best disguises, too. And then when we graduated, they were recruited by ARPAC, the best monster hunting agency in the nation. It was humiliating. I should have been there with them.”
“That’s the Associated Ring of Professional Anti-Cryptids,” Sammy told me, misreading the confusion on my face.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” I said. “I just want to know what this asshole is doing at my friend’s Christmas party dressed as evil Santa.”
“I’d like to know that too,” Smith murmured.
Sammy’s lips curled up into an infuriating smile. “Isn’t it obvious?” they said. “I invited Stephen to this party under the pretense that Krampus would be here. I knew he had history with this town, so it was obvious he would come running. From there I just needed to disguise myself as Krampus, get the bartender to kill the lights, and lure Stephen into a wild goose chase, setting him up for yet another failure as a hunter. It’s the perfect prank.”
“That’s not the perfect prank,” I said. “That’s the dumbest, shittiest prank I’ve ever seen, and I watch Jackass. Like, what was your endgame? Just run around in circles until Smith gets tired and you can laugh at him? You might as well crank call him and tell him his refrigerator’s running.”
Sammy’s maddening smile faded. The sight of it seemed to boost Smith’s spirits somewhat.
“Yeah,” he said, a sliver of confidence coming back into his voice. “You’re losing your touch, Sammy. We’re not at the academy anymore. Your stupid pranks won’t work on me now.”
Sammy didn’t respond, but their hand dropped slightly toward their overstuffed Santa sack, a motion that wasn’t lost on me.
“Shit,” I said, lifting up the fire-axe. “Smith, stop them!”
But Sammy moved faster than either of us. They plunged their hand into the depths of the bag and withdrew a round object that looked like a Christmas ornament, complete with a little hook at the top. Then they tugged off the hook and lobbed the object toward us. I shielded my eyes as a burst of bright red smoke erupted from the grenade and billowed outward, blocking out my entire field of vision. The smoke, oddly, smelled like fresh peppermint. I could hear Smith coughing and Matheson whimpering. Something small and warm brushed against my leg, but it was only the dog, seeking me out like he did during thunderstorms.
Soon I was coughing too, trying to get that peppermint taste out of my throat. It took about thirty seconds for the smoke to clear. By the time it dissipated, Sammy was gone. They’d taken their sack of pranks and slipped out of sight, leaving nothing except a dent where they’d fallen against a box of toothbrushes.
“Ah, dammit,” I said. “They got away.”
Smith looked disappointed, but not entirely surprised.
“Come on,” he said, sounding defeated. “Let’s go make sure the sheriff and everyone else are okay.”
* * * * *
The lights were on in the Swinging Boulder across the way when the three of us emerged from the facilities hallway. A slouching old woman in a gray tank top was kneeling over the bullet-riddled beaver and moaning slightly. She saw us enter the lobby and jumped half a foot in the air. She must have been the receptionist or something, because she began to bitch at us in a raspier smoker’s voice than Smith’s, complaining that we’d ruined her lobby and she was going to call the police and maybe the FBI and whatever, I honestly tuned her out. We walked right past her and left through the sliding glass doors.
“I should have known Krampus wasn’t real,” Smith said morosely. “All this time I should have been hunting actual cryptids, like the Florida skunk ape.”
I snorted. “Sounds like my ex-husband.”
Smith glanced over at me. “Is it true, then?” he asked. “You used to be married to Mike Hannity?”
“Seven years of my life I’ll never get back,” I said. “Sammy told me you worked a case with him once?”
A hint of a smile flickered on the detective’s face. “Yeah. Kind of a long story. Mike, he’s a bit…”
“Of a bastard, I know. Sorry you were forced to put up with him.”
“I was going to say abrasive,” Smith chuckled. “But he’s got a good heart.”
“Really?” I said. “Must be as small as his dick then, ‘cause I sure as hell haven’t seen it.”
Smith didn’t say anything to that. He just kept up that tiny, strange smile as we crossed the lot and reentered the back hall of the Swinging Boulder.
The party was back in full swing, as if literally nothing had happened. Some jazzy rendition of “Jingle Bells” floated over the crowd of drunk, dancing lesbians, and the stoic bartender was back pouring drinks, her Santa hat as droopy as ever. I was surprised to see that Smith’s bowl of “nectar” was almost empty. The dessert had been brought out while we were gone, and cookie crumbs and dabs of cupcake frosting were smeared across the table.
I glanced around for Libby and Jamie, only to find them chatting with a tall stranger near the appetizers. It took me approximately half a second to realize this was Sammy in disguise. They’d ditched the Krampus getup for a shiny red dress that was (once again) just a little too small for their body. The face beneath their long, blond, obviously fake Britney Spears wig was still covered in smudged brown marker. It looked like they’d shoved their face into a chocolate cupcake and forgotten to use a napkin.
I’d had a really long night and was just about tired of this bullshit, but any thoughts of calling Sammy out faded when I saw the flustered look on Smith’s face. Little dots of red had appeared in the center of his cheeks, and he wore the slack-jawed expression of a high school freshman seeing their crush for the first time.
“Who’s that beautiful woman?” he gasped.
I looked down at Matheson. The basset hound stared back up at me, his eyes glistening and knowing, as if to say, I won’t tell him if you won’t. Or maybe he just wanted a treat.
“What the hell,” I said. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”
Smith wandered away, tugging at the bottom of his ridiculous sweater, and approached the group in the corner. Libby cheered at the sight of him and threw her arms around his skinny waist, sloshing booze onto the floor. Jamie looked flustered, but amused. The disguised Sammy tossed back their fake hair like a fashion model and sipped mischievously from their glass of eggnog.
As for me, I was fine to let the weirdos do their own thing. If anything I could use a little “me” time after this acid trip of a night. I tugged Matheson over to the bar and ordered a glass of straight tequila, plus a cup of water for the pup. I nursed my drink while Matheson slurped his down in the corner. Together we watched as the lesbians and the odd pair of monster hunters laughed and chatted and swayed to the holiday tunes overhead. The air was cool, the lights twinkled brightly, and everyone was having a good time. It took me a second to realize that I was too.