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🦝 The Raccoon Files Vol. 3 • My Latest Shiny Obsessions

4 hours ago
6 min read

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** Something I get asked about **

Handwriting

Colorful handwritten website planning mind-map with arrows, boxes, and highlighted sections on notebook paper
Behold, an actual page from one of my serial killer notebooks. A crime scene or a fully mapped website?

I haven't always loved myself, but I've always loved my handwriting. Since I was little I wrote and drew over everything — sorry, Mom. The hours and the damage weren't wasted, I promise. I still practice, aiming for three times a week, and I keep spiral notebooks I lovingly call my serial killer notebooks — disorganized to the untrained eye, a twisted little map of whatever's in my head. Turns out Eminem keeps a similar system. His is much less colorful. When I'm catching up on my beloved television stories, I write down what I hear. I save these notebooks because they're the closest thing I have to a sketchbook or a journal — so I hope my kids know that when I die, these weren't my actual thoughts. Scandal!




Pink handwritten Chris Do quote about being disliked for who you are rather than loved for who you're not, with three colorful pens across dot-grid paper
The one I go back to. Pens are my love language, right behind bubbles.

Why has it always been my thing? It's something I can create, control, and change at will — embellish or disguise. It's purely mine. Most people treat handwriting as a means to an end, but I get to take pride in it. And I love when I post something with my handwriting and a friend from middle school comments,

I WOULD RECOGNIZE THAT HANDWRITING ANYWHERE!



Teal handwritten Heather Gay quote about wanting a mattress not stained with twenty years of broken dreams, on lined paper
Heather Gay, a poet. This one lives in my head rent-free

I think I was an Egyptian scribe in a past life. Only about 1–5% of people could read back then, so it was a prestigious, demanding job for a tiny elite — and I feel like I did that. I can't imagine not knowing how to read. Like, ever. Something about writing for people all day, keeping society running, fascinates me. I think I was very good at it, too. Maybe that's why this all matters so much to me.



** Something that makes me happy **

Penny + her bubbles

During COVID, back when we lived in an actual house, our wonder dog Penny was a voracious puppy who needed big-time walks every single day. We lived five minutes from Prairie Moraine Dog Park — an 83-acre off-leash gem with miles of mowed trails winding over glacial hills, oak savannas, and open play meadows. A dog's dream, and Penny got it daily. Then — record scratch — we moved into the RV. Now every stop is a different site and she's always on a leash. This is not how she spent her first six years.


Somewhere along the road we discovered that Penny loves bubbles. Like LOVES them. She reacts the way I feel on the inside ((I might act like that if it were socially acceptable for a gal over the age of 9)). The second the machine gets going, she jumps and frolics and loses her whole ding dang mind. It's indescribable, and it brings us both so much joy that we now have a bubble session every single day.



Jessi standing beside a chalkboard sign that reads My Love Language is Bubbles at a Key West shop
Turns out Penny and I are a matching set — our love language is bubbles.

I burned through four $12 bubble machines in a year before finally springing for the big boy from Amazon. It runs on a power bank — so much more convenient than batteries or a wall plug — with a huge tank for endless bubbles and endless joy. I am a fan.


Need to get happy? Watch Penny's video over on my Instagram, then go grab yourself some bubbles. You can't go wrong.







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** Something I'm reading **

SARK

Author SARK smiling outdoors in a colorful watercolor-print jacket
The woman herself. SARK — juicy, wild, and the reason a teenage me felt seen.

I found SARK the way I found a lot of things — browsing a bookstore, looking for answers. Like everything else in my life, I choose things by color and design, so you can picture her books leaping off the shelf and into my arms. I probably even bounced a check to pay for them. This juicy, wild woman is a bestselling author, artist, mentor, and fierce advocate for self-love and creativity, and her whole mission is to inspire people to live their best lives. Her books were an invitation to live a rich, vibrant, "succulent" life by embracing who you actually are — exactly what this nutter of a teenager needed. But they had a kicker: they were mostly handwritten. ((See above. I mean, COME. ON.)) SARK wrote most her books by hand, with markers, and not every letter was perfect — it was unmistakably hers, and way beyond cool. So while I was taking in the self-love, I was also soaking up art lessons she may never have meant to teach.


Cover of SARK's book Succulent Wild Woman, 25th anniversary edition, with colorful hand-drawn dancing figures
The book that started it all for me. Handwritten, marker-drawn, and gloriously succulent.

High school in the 90s had no social media. Can you imagine? Yes — it was awesome. SARK ran a phone line, one of those pay-per-minute deals, and I remember my mom handing me a long-distance calling card for it. You'd buy a prepaid card with credits, call a special number, and punch in 28 random digits to dial long distance from a landline. Different time. But I digress — when college hit and the days got tough, that number was a lifeline.


Thanks to social media, I've got my SARK back on the regular. Girlfriend has a blog and still shares her creativity, happiness, and joy. ((Did I mention she's right up my alley?)) Honestly, jumping back into the world of SARK has a direct line to me being an artist and living full time in an RV.

OMG. If my 12-year-old self heard that sentence, she'd put down her Babysitters Club book and cry.

SARK tells you to follow your heart even when it's hard, because you can't do anything else. That's a powerful lesson for a high school girl. A college co-ed. And even the lady about to turn 50. Ahem.

** RACcOON HONORS **

Just The Gist

Promo image for the Just the Gist podcast with host Rosie Waterland leaning toward a microphone
My walking companion and comfort listen. Rosie Waterland, I'd follow you anywhere.

Penny and I would take daily 45-minute walks around that park I mentioned above. I can't remember how I found Just the Gist, but the second Rosie Waterland and her swarthy, dulcet-toned Adonis of a co-host started talking, I was soothed. It's a weekly pod, and it's fair to say I knew more about COVID in Australia than in the US where I actually live — and this is the reason why.


There was a fallout over rights and some situations went down, none of which are my business, so these days Rosie hosts with a handful of sidekicks who are all amazingly genuine. She's gone full Taylor Swift and started re-recording her favorite old episodes (Rosie's Versions) because fuck the patriarchy and why are men? And like Taylor, the community is right behind her.

Get ready to hear just the gist of a story you could tell at a dinner party. A few of my favorites, in no particular order:

  • The Mushroom Lady

  • The Titanic ((Rosie is a lifelong Titanic buff, so her shit is good))

  • Winona Ryder's Shoplifting Scandal

  • The Man With a Penis on His Arm ((I mean. How can you not?))

  • eBay Stalking Scandal

  • That Time Oprah Gave Everyone a Car

  • The Woman That Fell in Love With a Dolphin


Wait. Read that last one again. It's far and away the best of the re-records, and I can't even summarize it for you — it's bonkers, you just need to listen. I can't do it justice. Bonus: Rosie starred in a sold-out play of this very story, and I'm beyond bummed I couldn't go. The RV doesn't make it to Australia from here!!


Hey Rosie! I'm hoping for Rosie's Versions of The Great Emu War of 1932 and Stuart Semple vs. Anish Kapoor — I used to recommend those eps like wildfire. Those stories live inside me!

Take a listen. Relax into those accents, sit back, and learn a few things.


That's the haul. Pockets empty.

This month's shinies were handwritten, hand-marked, iridescent, and unmistakably Australian. The Raccoon Files at their finest.


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1 Comment


Tricia Larson
Tricia Larson
an hour ago

Love this post, and thanks for the recs!

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